[IC] 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

[Akayaofthemoon]

_{location: Aquarium
interactions: Poseidon @metanoia, Jörmungandr @Akayaofthemoon
mentions:}

---

“Thank you so much for coming in! I don’t know what we would have done without you, Jorunn. I’m really sorry we had to bother you on your requested day off.”, her coworker stated, relieved but also with a hint of guilt that the situation couldn’t be handled without assistance.

”Don’t worry about it, these things happen. It’s not like I’m being asked to stay, so cheer up. Oh, and good luck on the rest of your shift!”, the world snake chuckled, giving a shoulder pat before waving her coworker goodbye and making her way through the exhibits. Jorm didn’t feel in a rush to leave, not much to do now that she had been called away from her brother and with the chaos of the festival, it was best to just avoid the immortals for a while which meant JJ was out. She silently drifted by various tanks, pausing now and then to admire the peaceful view but also not lingering too long or unpleasant memories would boil up. The days where they had been angry, bitter, lonely, and resigned to fate laid out before them. The only thing that kept them going back then was a voice, one that understood their pain and suffering…not a physical one but an emotional one.

At that time, they had believed their mind was finally lost and that they had created the voice as a coping mechanism. How was another god, supposedly not from their pantheon able to reach them and speak in their tongue? It didn’t seem possible, no matter how they wished it was so. It has been the start to a beautiful friendship either way, one that they had cherished above all else and one that she still missed today. The fall made the possibility of a Greek god so very real, changing her thoughts that perhaps it wasn’t as much of an illusion of the mind as she had led herself to believe and yet she hadn’t found him. The few times she went to the festival, there had been no Poseidon and no one she had asked had spoken of him. It was why she stopped going, resigned that she must have imagined it or perhaps something else had occurred. Jorm paused, coming up to their newest limited time exhibit, the whole reason she was here today in the first place as one of the snakes had made their escape.

The aquarium had wanted to show off various sea snakes and thus a large snake exhibit was placed alongside the aquatic and semi-aquatic reptiles. Jorm would be lying if she said she hadn't been a key factor in getting her brethren here and being the main show instead of going with another limited time exhibit, which is why she couldn’t just turn away when the call had come in. She stepped through the archway, making her way up to one of the larger tanks when she paused, watching a man admire the swimming creatures of the deep and the slithering serpents gliding effortlessly through the waters depths. Normally, she would have let the man be and left him to his own devices but something pulled at her. Jorm cautiously stepped up next to him, standing silently by his side as she watched for a minute or so. Her eyes were still on the glass when she gently spoke aloud and gave him a chance to respond or just let the comment settle around them. ”Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Poseidon was lost in a moment of peace, glancing at the collection of sea snakes inside the take, swimming around. The odds of their voice leading him here, of all places, where there was a snake exhibit. He would chalk it off to divine intervention but who would have done it? To his knowledge, there wasn’t exactly a divine being to intervene in anything - not anymore, anyway. But perhaps it wasn’t that and it was just a coincidence. Truth be told, the god of the sea had come to this specific aquarium a few times. When he wasn’t out on his boat or sulking at the beach (not that it happened often), he liked to come here and decompress. It made days when he missed his friend - like today - more tolerable. And maybe that was a hidden meaning as to why he was here.

And because of that, Poseidon didn’t hear anyone approach him until he heard the voice of a woman speak up next to him. He noted her beauty and the auburn locks. A feeling of ease and warmth passed through him that Poseidon couldn’t quite explain to himself. Maybe it was the aquatic life around him that reminded him of his time as ruler of Atlantis. That must be it.

“Breathtaking!They seem quite content with the amount of space given in the tanks.” Poseidon’s eyes went back to the sea snakes. An understanding of aquatic creatures had still lingered and though direct communication was out of his reach, he still could feel what they felt. Whatever they were doing at this aquarium, Poseidon was getting the sense those who worked here treated them the right way and that made him smile.

”I should hope so. A lot of love and care went into this exhibit and I do try to keep them all very happy.”, Jorm smiled brightly, her eyes drifting away from the dazzling creatures before them to really look at the man beside her. He was handsome, dark eyes and hair, some age though it didn’t pull away from the rugged appeal and charm of his features which were wrapped in a sophisticated attire. There was something about him, looks aside that made her feel content to just be at his side and want to converse with him for as long as she could. ”Is this your first time here? The snake exhibit I mean. I would have asked, do you come here often but that sounds more like a cheesy pickup line than the start of a legitimate conversation.”, she stated before nervously running her fingers through her hair and chuckling a bit at the ridiculousness since she had dived off cliffs and done much more dangerous adventures than talking to a stranger. ”Sorry, I’m not the best at meeting new people.”

Poseidon let out a genuine laugh that came from the gut. That’s the kind of line he’d expect from his brother. Or that fool Hercules. It was strange, though. There was something abstractly familiar about what he was feeling but the god of the sea couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Don’t worry about it. Had I been someone else, that may have worked on me,” Poseidon admitted, laughing again that his moronic brother would have ate that comment up and then some. “But I wouldn’t say it’s my first time here. I have come to this aquarium a few times. After a lecture, I like to come here to decompress -- at least, when it’s not pouring out there.” Living in Seattle for as long as he has, Poseidon has come to appreciate the rain cycles. “I can’t say I’ve been here when the sea snakes were being shown off.” By this point, Poseidon was looking at the woman standing next to him.. She was a bit on the younger side, but that didn’t take away from this strange feeling about the presence she gave off..A feeling he couldn’t quite shake for some reason.

He brought his eyes back to the tank. “I don’t get to see sea snakes as often as I’d like, so I was happy that there was an exhibit when I decided to come today.” Poseidon admitted, somewhat mournfully. Part of him longed for divinity, but not to be on Olympus but rather in Atlantis. He wondered…did it still stand as it was? Or did it wither away? As he thought about it, Poseidon went silent as he became deep in his own mind.

If she believed him to be handsome before, nothing compared to when he was laughing. It was full of genuine mirth and a sound she hoped he would make again before departing. It left her almost breathless while her heart began to race and butterflies sprung into her stomach as something, almost like a distant memory, told her not to brush off the feeling. What was this? When had she ever felt this? She quickly tried to gather herself, not wanting to appear flustered though that seemed next to impossible when it started all over again as soon as he looked at her even for a moment. ”I can understand coming here to decompress, rain or not. It is a peaceful place and a little safer than swimming in the ocean, not that that stops me but it’s just different here.”, Jorm replied, proud that her voice was steady.

Why did she feel so content just to stand at this man’s side? Why did his laugh make her giddy and wish to do anything to hear it again? Usually, she wouldn’t have walked over to the blue collared sophisticated type because they bored her but this was different. He was different but she couldn’t put a finger on why. He was simply captivating though maybe it was just something about his voice, a familiar feeling but unsure where she had heard it before. She found herself nodding as he spoke once more, partially listening but also lost in her own deduction on where they could have met before. It did not surprise her that he hadn’t been here when the snakes were on display since they were just released for public viewing not that long ago. The tone shifted suddenly with his next words, nothing wrong with the words he had said but the change felt as clear as day. She felt it strong enough to place aside her thoughts so she could focus once more.

She let the silence sit between them, feeling that similar mournful ache as she stared into the tank. If anything could be expressed from the one next to her, it seemed like he too was longing for something or falling deep into thoughts and memories just as she did. Jorm was used to distracting herself during those moments, leaving to do something crazy and wild to push back on any ill memory or stopping herself mourning over a dream but she found herself unready to leave even as she let herself drift to those thoughts so she decided to try something else for both of them. ”Did you know that there are over sixty species of sea snakes? There are so many and yet, they are a rare sight to see in the water. Not many people realize how peaceful and non-aggressive a creature they are even though they carry the most potent venom out of all snakes.”, she commented with straight facts, hoping to get his mind off of whatever was going through his head.

”You said you don’t get to see them as often as you like. The truth is, they choose who to let close, even in this crafted environment. Which is why it makes it all the more special when someone is chosen to view them even if it might only be once. The fact they are out now means they are just as happy that you visited them today as you are at visiting.”, she added before taking a deep breath and turned slightly in his direction so she was facing him and tucking her hands behind her back, knowing that this was probably going to be a really moronic and random question but when had she ever backed down from something that was nagging at her. ”Do you know me? I’m sorry but you seem familiar to me somehow and I can’t place where or even why.”

As Poseidon drew his eyes away from the tank, though he had been looking aimlessly at it since going deep into his lamenting state of mind, he found himself looking at the woman next to him. The way she stood, the way she asked that question: did she know him? He thought about it - really thought about it. At face value, the answer was no. In his mind, he couldn’t recall ever meeting this auburn-haired woman before. Perhaps he had seen her around the aquarium a few times in passing, but as far as actually meeting her, the god of the sea couldn’t recall.

But then there were some other circumstances that he hadn’t factored in. He was brought here because he sensed the presence of Jormungandr. He was brought here because, in the moment he physically touched the water, somewhere nearby, he felt the tug of a string pull him in a direction that led him in front of the entrance of the aquarium. Before he entered, he thought he’d find his old friend here, but then when the sea snakes exhibit came to his attention, that’s when he figured that’s what it must’ve been.

As much as the God of the Sea hoped it wasn’t the case, maybe he was longing for his friend so much that even the faintest presence of the World Snake -- or any snake, for that matter -- would give him that hope.

“It’s funny, you know. I can’t recall ever meeting you, yet something about you feels familiar, too.” As he smiled, in the back of his mind, he wanted to ask her but if he was wrong, then he’d expose his true existence. Or have a very awkwardness that might just ruin the nice time they were having. Still, now that he was thinking about it, Poseidon couldn’t help but wonder if it was even possible. “The way you spoke about the snakes, your very presence, and how at ease I am - you remind me so much of an old friend of mine. Very much so that it’s actually pretty jarring.” Speaking that out loud, Poseidon’s heart started to beat faster than it had previously and his stomach tied up in knots, like it was sinking into the depths of the atlantic. “I apologize. I know that must not make any sense, right? It’s ludicrous, I know but that’s how I’ve been feeling since we started talking.”

She found herself unable to remove her gaze, afraid that if she did that he might disappear. It couldn’t be him, right? That had all been her imagination…wasn’t it? How she desperately wanted to just straight out ask if it was so. She didn’t want to feel such hope but that is exactly what she felt in this moment. It felt like she had finally found a piece of herself that had been missing. She knew she couldn’t just let it go but how did she go about this in case she was wrong? ”Actually, it makes perfect sense to me. I….are you…”, Jörmungandr started, shaking slightly with nervous anticipation as she struggled to find the words. No one had made her this worried about any of her actions in a long time and she could only hope this didn’t go horribly wrong. ”I really hope this isn’t a random question but…are you by any chance, Greek?”

Or what if his silly thoughts weren't so silly? That question, the way she looked at him when she asked him, some of it was coming together. As he stood there, wanting to just come out and say what he was thinking, he observed the woman who visibly shook where she stood. He saw how much inner turmoil she might be going through. Internally, it was the same for him. Like a storm brewing but the small glint of clarity in the furthest part of the visible sky.

As he took her hand, not knowing what else to do, he wanted to offer some form of clarity not only for himself but for her as well. Deep in his heart, he probably knew but having that sense of clarity was something he felt they both could use right now. As he squeezed it, his heart tripled in its pacing and his stomach twirled and contorted. “Yes…I am.” He finally responded, looking into her familiar eyes. His lips folded up into a small smile. “And you’re…Norse, aren’t you?”

It felt like time stopped, everything else around them drifting away as he smiled at her with his hand in her own, unknowingly keeping her anchored in this moment lest she drift away. He was real. He was here and he was real. She felt tears gathering in her eyes as a surge of happiness flooded her. Jorm didn’t answer with words, instead she released his hand so she could wrap her arms around his neck and pulled him in a full blown hug. She held him close, fighting back tears even with the dazzlingly bright smile that was painted on her lips. ”What took you so long?”, she teased weakly, pulling back only a bit so she could see his face and commit every detail to memory. This was what he looked like. This was what her most cherished friend in the world looked like and for once he was in arms reach, not that she had arms before but still. She just couldn’t believe he was here. Her hands reached up to cup his face, her thumbs playing along his jawline as she continued to stare in awe. ”Gosh, you’re really here….I thought I had imagined you.”, Jorm said more to herself than him, still trying to process that this was for real and not some kind of dream or hallucination. It seemed to kick start at least part of her brain, though she still didn’t find herself moving away as she spoke. ”Sorry, I’m not really great at boundaries and I really like hugs. Is this okay?

Poseidon’s heart felt lighter. Like the anchor that had been weighing him down for so long had all but vanished when…Jormungandr hugged him. In those years when they were conversing over boundaries, Poseidon often wondered what they truly looked like but it never occurred to him that they would be so…pleasing to the eyes. He smiled as he returned the embrace, feeling overwhelmed by so many emotions, but also something that might resemble a renewal of purpose. Jormungandr had given him a purpose during those lonely days up top of Mount Olympus and here she was, giving him a renewed purpose all over again.

“It’s more than just okay.” As he spoke in that low tone, inside he could feel it: the storm brewing wasn’t so cloudy anymore. Gentle seas, clear skies, and a wind that was so calming that he could taste the sea water again. “I’m sorry if I worried you,” He closed his eyes, a small stream of tears pouring from his eyes.

”You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me.”, she answered, brushing off his apology just as easily as she brushed his tears away with her fingers, not because the words weren’t important but because he was more important than any feeling she had been made to deal with over the years. She would forgive him always because without him, she wasn’t sure she would have made it to where she was standing now. Jorm smiled softly, holding him once more but softer, letting herself rest into him. ”It’s good to finally see you, Posie. I missed you.”

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{Location: Valhalla → Seattle
Mentions: Anubis, Persephone
Interactions: Odin @KZOMBI3}

Then.

The ranch was called Valhalla. It was huge, encompassing hundreds of acres of property, including a river, and a pair of mountains and all the vast wilderness inbetween. In Váli’s opinion, it was practically a paradise. It was almost fully self-sustaining, with a massive garden, solar power, and plenty of livestock that Váli and a few of his boys were adept at butchering. Once upon a time, Valhalla had simply been Váli’s private paradise, and in recent years he’d opened its gates by becoming a foster parent.

Even though it was long ago, Váli had vivid memories of growing up with his brothers. There was something to be said about having that brotherhood while growing up, and though it wasn’t always a good time with his siblings, Váli had to believe that they would support each other when they needed it. After all, he only existed to avenge one of his fallen brothers. Baldr, a man he’d never met.

Of course, Váli intended to be a better father figure than Odin ever was. When he was ‘younger’ (it was tough for him to think of a time when he was younger, since he’d grown to adult age in less than a day), Odin hadn’t been the best. In recent times, though, he was doing his best — it of course helped that he was willing to pay for Váli’s home life.

Today was a relaxation day for Váli and his boys; all of them were at a swimming hole together. For the older boys, it was something of a celebration; Dad was leaving for two weeks for his yearly trip to Seattle. Without his supervision, Váli wasn’t sure what they got up to, but he certainly trusted them. As long as they didn’t burn the place down, it would be fine.

For the newest member of the family, an eight year old boy named Eric who’d been removed from an abusive, neglectful family to Valhalla. The adjustment portion was always difficult, but Váli had been through it more than a few times. Though once upon a time, he was a mighty warrior who felled foes without remorse or regret, Váli’s calling these days was helping these boys conquer their fears.

Together, he and the boy were standing on top of the waterfall that filled the swimming hole they’d gathered at. The intention was to jump off of it and into the water below, but Eric was having trouble building up the courage to do so. Váli knelt in front of him. “You’re afraid.” He was the spirit of vengeance, not the spirit of subtlety. Eric stared at him and then gave a small nod, and Váli put a massive hand on the boy’s shoulder. “That’s alright. You are very small, and you’ve been through a lot. Too much, I would say, for someone so small.”

Of course, there was more than just fear. Though he wasn’t sure if the boy even truly knew how he felt, Váli could practically taste the anger and drive for vengeance against those who had treated him poorly in the air. There were healthy ways to deal with feelings like that, and though it had taken Váli a millennia to learn that himself, he wanted to teach it to the boys he brought into his home.

Eric grimaced a bit, and Váli could tell he was somewhat unsure. “But, now is the time to be brave. A start to freeing yourself from those feelings.” Váli rose and stepped backwards, toward the edge of the cliff as he kept his eyes on the boy. “I brought you here because I believe you can do anything and everything. Valhalla is home to men. I won’t come up until you come down.” He gave a two finger salute to the young boy, and took one more step backwards, plunging himself off the cliff and down the waterfall toward the waiting swimming spot at the bottom.

“Hey, wait no!”

Váli could hear the protests of the child as he fell, and the last thing he saw before he hit the water was the boy staring down at him. Was it tough love? Maybe, but Váli didn’t want him to be afraid forever. Jumping off a cliff and into a pool of water was certainly a start, a bit dramatic even, but dramatic was in his blood. He got it from his father, he reckoned.

As the water surrounded him, Váli let himself sink to the bottom of the water, and sat upright on the floor. Once upon a time, Váli would have found the quietness of being underwater unnerving, but these days there was a calming peacefulness to it. He had to partially thank his therapist for the peacefulness he’d found, Váli only learned to let things go because of his sessions with Anubis.

He closed his eyes and thought about how far he’d come. His journey had been a long and arduous one, and it was from the ‘hero’s journey’ he’d read about in the books mortals had written. Nonetheless, Váli was proud of how he was able to keep himself under control.

Váli wasn’t sure how long he sat on the floor of the pool before he could feel the water shift above him as Eric finally landed. His eyes opened and he smiled as he swam upward, catching the child on the way up. When he broke through the water, Eric was held high upon his shoulders. Váli looked up at him and smiled, “And now you’re the king of the moment,” he said as he watched Eric looking at the other boys who were gathered in and around the pool. Some were clapping, some were cheering. Eric had a small, somewhat shy smile on his face, as Váli presented a question to him. “As the king of the moment… you get to decide what we eat tonight. So, what will it be? A feast of steak, or perhaps a lobster dinner?”

Eric was quiet for a few seconds as he considered his options. He wasn’t used to being in the spotlight like this, where everyone was looking at him and cheering him on. There was really only one thing he could think of that he wanted… “Uhm… Mc..Mcdonald’s?” He said. More cheers erupted. The boys were excited for their meal to come.

“Very well. Summon the riders! Let us feast.” Váli bellowed, looking out at the Valhalla residents. It was hard to kick old habits, but by now most of them knew what Váli was saying: DoorDash would be on its way. It had taken some time, effort, and a couple of checks with a lot of zeroes, but there were finally DoorDashers brave enough to come to the gates of Valhalla.

Now.

As the plane came into its descent to the airport, Váli’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about the simple question the eldest of the boys had left him with when he’d walked out the door. “You’re going to bring her home this time, right?” The bastard. Váli had mentioned having a crush before, but he’d never thought he’d be so… called out on it.

The plane’s wheels hit the ground, and he bounced out his mind and back to reality as it came to a stop.

Váli stepped off the plane and rushed through the Seattle airport. It was one of his least favorite places to be, there were too many people and as a result it was too loud. He had purposefully chose a flight that landed a bit later - avoiding Hera was a difficult task, but Váli was nearly an expert in it by now. He’d been close to Hera only a few times since the return of Zeus. The godly lust for vengeance and their divine rage is more potent than any mortal could have ever hoped, and standing even in the same room as Hera had made Váli feel a primal, undeniable urge to behead the King of Olympus.

So, Váli had listened to Anubis’s suggestion of simply avoiding whatever get-togethers Hera planned, and instead intentionally arrived early. It would be easy enough to get the fruit from Persephone personally, and Persephone had never had those feelings. With her, Váli felt almost… safe.

There were very few deities Váli was comfortable around.

Once he escaped the clutches of the airport, and slid into the rental car that was far too small for a man of his stature, Váli pulled out his phone and sent a text message.

To: Pops

I am here. Surely nothing interesting has happened already, right?

[smarty0114]

_{Location: The Acropolis
Interactions: Xochi @Aewin, Eros @Danvers, & Comus @KZOMBI3}

---

---

Apollo’s after-death omelettes had led the group of deities their separate ways. Apollo had helped Phobos put Melinoe to bed, before he scurried off himself to find some peace. The events of the day had exhausted him, drained him of his good humor. He desperately needed it returned to him. His feet carried him through labyrinthine halls, until he came upon an open room, luxuriously furnished and filled with instruments of all shapes and sizes.

A piano sat in the center, but the walls were lined with guitars and violins and trumpets, with sitars and bagpipes and banjos. There was hardly a space in the room where music could not be summoned, in all its brilliant intensity. Mortals he spoke to had often forgotten about this aspect of his being. They knew him as the God of the Sun, if they even knew him at all. It was rare that he met a classics major. Even now though, millenia after the fall, eons after he’d won the Chariot of the Sun from Helios, music was still one of his truest loves.

He sat down at the piano, releasing a deep sigh and letting the tension of the day fall off his bones. He did a good job of masking it with smiles and jests and tranquility, but he was not immune to tragedy. Not in the slightest. His slender fingers fell upon the ivory keys and melodies began to pour forth from the piano, and as they did, he thought of Olympus, and Zagreus, and betrayals big and small.

By nature, Apollo was not prone to worries or anxieties. It was rare that the gnawing jaws of fear clamped down upon him, but they were there now, chewing at his insides with jagged teeth. Was it war, or something else, something darker and more sinister? Two thousand years he had walked this Earth, and for two thousand years he had been free of fear. Why now, did he feel so cold?

He toyed around with the idea of calling his sister, picking her brain for information, but he suspected she would be of little use. He knew Artemis would want to keep the circle of information as controlled as possible. His father might be useful for a distraction, but he would have little in the way of information. Athena might be willing to share what she had discovered, but again, she’d probably be looking to keep her cards close to her vest. He couldn’t quite blame either of his sisters for not trusting him with secrets; he was all too prone to a loosening of lips when he drank, and he drank often.

Instead, he kept his fingers dancing across the piano, closing his eyes and letting the notes fill the room. He felt each one burning inside him, a flame that would reduce him to ashes were it not released. He wondered if other gods could feel their own divinity as he did in this moment. He was lost in it, drunk now, on his own artistry. Shivers ran down his arms, flesh raising in response to the melodies he magicked into being.

The song he played was an endless one, not unlike his life. Everytime he approached the end he looped back to the beginning, unwilling to sacrifice the comfort the music brought him. Here, in this room, safe in his cocoon of musical notes, he allowed himself to feel the pain of the day’s events. The bodies of Zagreus and Macaria flashed in his brain, and Melinoé’s scream echoed inside his head. He could not help but feel responsible, at least in some small fashion. It was like the past had come back to haunt him, to tease him with his previous failings. Perhaps Daphne had awoken from her oaken slumber too, and would arrive soon to taunt him.

He let the music keep his mind afloat, even as it drifted off into dark, uncharted waters. He knew no other way to cope, other than to push through the pain that threatened to pull him under. He would not, could not, share these moments with anyone else. He was the Sun, after all, and he could not dim while eyes were on him.

The melancholy musings of the God of Music were interrupted by the sharp clang of metal against metal, and his hands faltered on their journey across the keys. The music ceased, and his mood soured as he stood. Someone had ruined his meditation.

He didn’t know who to expect as he made his way towards the sound of voices. So many people, mortal and immortal, came through the party home, it was difficult to predict the next guest. He knew for a fact though, that he had not been expecting Comus to be the one disturbing his peace.

In the presence of guests, the Sun brightened. “We traded two of Hades’ children for you? This seems like a scam,” Apollo said, smirking as he pulled his deeply debauched niece in for a hug. “I’m assuming you have a very interesting story, one that I would like to hear after a shot or three.” His gaze traveled first to Xōchiquetzal, smiling his most charming grin, before falling on his nephew. “Xochi, always a pleasure. Eros, you’re more than welcome to enjoy whatever festivities unfold, but only if you admit that I’m a better archer than you.” His smile only grew bigger as he opened a cabinet that would earn anybody else a very serious intervention. It seemed as though the Sun had risen.

[Danvers]

Fruitcake, or Jakey as his mother liked to call him, was not a good person. Nor was he known by this nickname for his sweet disposition. He was someone that you would cross the street to avoid or whom you would immediately swipe left to when he popped up on your dating app. He was one of those guys who despite only being 22, knew with 100% certainty that he was absolutely & always correct about everything. And despite only working for the guy for a few weeks, was already fed up with Leif's dumbass rules. Where was the fun in owning a nightclub if you couldn't even hit on the clientele? It wasn't his fault that they liked to play hard to get. So after one too many beers, Fruitcake had made his way to the Jade Jaguar, home of what were undeniably the hottest chicks in the city. Strolling through the doors, he didn't bother to wait for Smokey, who was chain smoking what must've been his 80th roll up of the day.

"Try not to be an asshole Fruitcake." The older man grunted over his shoulder as he exhaled a slow puff of tar & nicotine. Leif had told him to keep an eye on the younger thief, who had only been taken on because of his ability to get through any window, no matter how high or secure. It was his one redeemable trait. The rest of him being rotten to the core.

"Only if you stop being a pussy!" Fruitcake shot back with a laugh. After he had loaded himself up with another drink, he took a seat in one of the JJs plush chairs, giving him a prime view of the ass & tits on show. He was already fairly buzzed and after a few minutes in this manner, he began to tire of the piss poor dancing. "Oi! Over here!" He yelled to one of the dancers, who had been making her way from one patron to the next. She paused, clearly hesitant to approach the brusque man but eventually made her way over, shooting him a small smile. "How can I help you?"

"You can sit yourself down right here is what you can do." He grumbled, pointing to his lap. Fruitcake was already annoyed that he had seemingly been ignored since he'd arrived in this dive. When she stayed put, blabbing on about how it was against JJ policy for them to make physical contact with the patrons, his brow furrowed in irritation. "Now bitch." He snapped as he grabbed her waist, pulling her down onto his lap, his grip tight about her.

After a few moments, luckily or perhaps unluckily depending on the view, a hand raked roughly through his hair and not one belonging to the young woman struggling in his grasp. The hand viciously yanked the young man’s head back, holding at a strange angle to add extra discomfort as the goddess of many names glared down at this pathetic weasel of a mortal that dared to physically touch and insult one of their dancers. She gave another harsh pull, praying that he lost some hair with the grip she held as she was done, utterly done with the bullshit of others today. She had been nothing but angry and protective all day and apparently, no one in this universe was going to let her rest so why should she try to hold back? Why be nice when it wasn’t working out for her?

Hath had left the hospital disappointed, Ares not rising to the bait and also without listening to her words about how his brat had treated Tlaz. She should have let the morphine wear off first but she had to be nice. Sekh had the right idea but she thought a warning would be fair, clearly not since she had a feeling that child was too much like her father. She had tried to call Tlaz to tell her that she had seen Ares and also give some of the details on the Isa situation but just like the rest of her luck that day, her phone was dead. That meant going back to JJ and hoping that the goddess of sin was still around or at least if not, it would be a distraction from self destruction.

Instead, she was greeted with this fucking pig in her grasp and he was about to received a world of punishment if he didn’t nicely comply and get the fuck out of here because she was almost done with playing nice by providing warnings. A slow smile slipped onto her lips, one that clearly did not reach her eyes as she spoke in a deadly cold tone, ”You get two options, so listen carefully as I will not repeat myself. First option, you have three seconds to remove your hand, get up, and walk out of this club without causing an incident. Option two, which I would just love for you to try…you ignore my generous request and I break your hand, yank you up, maybe get a few hits in while you struggle, and drag you out by your hair to dispose of the garbage since you are pretty much nothing but filth that I wish not to have in my presence. Now, which will it be?”

Fruitcake was also an idiot. At Hath’s words the mortal, despite the extremely uncomfortable position he had been placed in, let out a bitter laugh before spitting violently in her direction. "I'm not going to have some floozie tell me what to do." He grunted, pain flooding through his head and neck. "I pay for this shit." He indicated towards the still struggling dancer, who was already far past the verge of tears.

Smokey, who had finally entered the premises, stopped in his tracks when he saw the shit show in front of him. "Oh for fucks sake..." He grumbled as he pulled out his phone, quickly pulling up Leif's number. Why was he always stuck with babysitting the crazy ones? He seriously needed to retire. Still muttering under his breath, the thief quickly typed a message as he side eyed the tussle, which was increasingly drawing the attention of the other patrons & employees.

Bossman

Fruitcakes gone off the rails. Might need you to come down to JJ. The woman looks like she'll break an arm or two so I ain't getting involved. Also can you bring me some smokes...I ran out.

Her nose scrunched at the pathetic attempt to spit at her but it also made her decide to alter her plans ever so slightly. ”Option two it is! Just remember, you were warned. Now, let’s fix that spitting problem of yours.”, she said in a sickeningly sweet tone before tilting his head at a good angle before full force repeatedly punching him in the side of the jaw with her free hand and waiting for a crack to be heard. She didn’t care if it was fractured, broken, or dislocated but it would be painful, slow, and best of all…less likely to make spitting possible until healed. Hathor showed no mercy, not even giving the lad much time to recover before her hand found his fingers wrapped around the crying woman’s waist, harshly pulling them all the way back and letting them either be removed naturally out of pain or again, fine with it being a symphony of snaps.

Hathor was slowly losing it, not even caring which option had come to be, only knowing that once the woman was released that he was instantly hauled onto his feet. ”You think you can come in here!?! Harass our dancers?! Throw insults!? And then try to spit in my face….I’m giving you a lesson you are never going to forget.”, she growled, punctuating each word with a fist shot to the kidneys and gut. She took hold of his hair once more, kicking out his legs, and doing exactly what she had promised. She strode through the crowd like a model on a runway, literally dragging the man behind her by his hair and kicking backwards with sharp heels when he tried to retaliate.

Smokey could only stand there, mouth hanging wide open in shock at what he had just witnessed, his fellow thief barely being able to moan in pain as his jaw hung half loose. Sure he was accustomed to violence but...damn. Lost in thought, suddenly a hand clapped on his shoulder, prompting him to jump out of his skin. "Fuckin' nearly shat myself you bastard." He muttered as Fenrir stopped beside him, casually tossing him a pouch of tobacco.

"Y'know you should really cut down. I'm not gonna pay for your hospital bills when you're coughing up a lung." The wolf replied pointedly. It wasn't like he'd never smoked himself but Smokey was known for being able to pick anyone's pocket...whilst holding & taking drags from a lit cigarette in his other hand. Fenrir had nearly died from laughter when he'd almost set a target's coat on fire one time.

"But what would you call me then?" Smokey frowned, seeming genuinely confused by this quandary. No-one even knew his real name by this point, it had been so long.

"Oh I don't know. How about...'doesn't stink like my grandma's one hundred year old ashtray.'" Fenrir smirked. The thief let out a loud laugh at this, followed by an extremely unhealthy sounding bout of coughing. Fenrir clapped him on the back, shaking his head. "See, you sound like shit. Anyway, where is the bastard?"

All Smokey could manage was to point in the direction that Fruitcake had been furiously dragged, a series of bewildered mortals being the only indicators that anything had even happened. Oh and the huge ass puddle of blood on the floor. Stepping over said puddle, Fenrir made his way to the back of the building, wondering who had the balls to beat the shit out of Fruitcake. Not that he disapproved. The guy had it coming and the wolf had almost instantly regretted taking him on board. His tread, as always, was silent as he pushed open the door, nose wrinkling at the overwhelming smell of garbage. Though his senses were nowhere near what they once, it didn't mean he wasn't sensitive to some things. Sharp blue eyes locked onto the two figures nearby, one of which was little more than a crumpled mess on the floor, and cleared his throat to let them know of his presence.

Hathor’s attention instantly snapped to the person that dared to interrupt her, eyeing him up and down with a raised brow before crossing her arms. He definitely was handsome but right now, a pretty face wasn’t really going to stop her from snapping at someone who was stopping a good time. ”Do you mind?! I’m currently taking out the trash and placing it where it belongs. Why don’t you find your way back inside or better yet, keep walking pal because there is nothing to see here?!”, she sassed angrily, tapping her foot on the ground. She dealt with more than one asshole today and if another wanted to take a crack at it, then that was no skin off her back.

"Oh he's mine." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, having to try very hard to stop the smile that dared to creep onto his face. Her unwillingness to tolerate any bullshit was admittedly both amusing and attractive. "Well not mine. The little shit just works for me." Cautiously, he took a step closer, not desiring to be on the receiving end of her wrath. As he closed the gap between them, he held a hand out towards her. "Names Leif. And I can only apologize for Fruitcake here. He's a couple of quarters short of a roll..." This prompted a weak groan from the mess of limbs on the ground. "Shut up Fruitcake. You'll lose more blood that way." Fenrir shook his head before turning back to the woman in front of him. "I'd be happy to take him off your hands. I imagine you must be very busy."

She frowned at his statement, about ready to lay into him next as she wondered if he thought this was funny with the nonchalant attitude, that is until the insult. She glanced down at the pitiful being at her feet before watching the newcomer closely, like a predator watching its prey as he slowly took steps closer. Once the gap was closed between them, he offered her his hand and a name which Hath was still debating on whether to accept or not, though it was more tempting with the apology. Hathor didn’t know what he meant at that last comment but she found her hand taking his own but instead of shaking, she yanked him closer and curled her free hand on his collar to pull him in, wanting to make sure she had his full attention. ”Keep your dogs on a tighter leash or you and I are going to have problems. Got it?”, Hathor said barely above a whisper before letting go of him and brushing off the imaginary lint from her dress. ”Deal with the mess if you must, Leif. I have a bar to tend to and now a few drinks to nurse.”, she sighed, moving to stride past him.

Fenrir held out an arm to block her way. "Come on. Let me buy you one of those drinks. It's the least I can do." He was intrigued by this woman, whom he couldn't help but feel a vague familiarity towards, though he was unable to pinpoint why. "I'm going to be getting rid of this particular dog anyway." The wolf couldn't help but linger bitterly on the word dog. It was something he associated with nothing but restraints and control. Fruitcake, somehow, managed to mutter a few words about not having been paid, which prompted a bark of a laugh from the norse god. "Ah but that's the beauty of it. You're no longer my employee, therefore I don't have to pay you." Fenrir shot in the man's direction, sharp blue eyes still focused on the woman.

"You know, it's normal practice for the other person to also give their name." He added, waiting patiently for her answer.

To say she was startled was an understatement. Hathor had given him absolutely no reason to want to stay in her company, content on trying to drive him away and end the unpleasant situation and yet even after a practically rejected apology on behalf of his employee, he was offering his time. Who on earth was this mortal? She was about to brush past him, ignore and disregard when his words caused her to pause and stare back into sharp blue eyes. Damn it all, why did they have to be blue? She has always been a sucker for blue eyes, no doubt a flaw in her creation. She didn’t take her eyes off his own, nor did he from hers as he spoke to the sniveling worm of a mortal that impressively enough had still managed words but only seemed to fuel an instant and prompt firing which had been promised moments earlier.

Leif should have been angry or at least upset by her rude attitude but instead, here he was, in a dingy disgusting alleyway, being patient and showing that he was on her side when many might say she took the situation too far even though Fruitcake had been in the wrong. In this moment, she decided to take a good look at him, really look at him instead of just labeling him as a pretty face. She felt like this man was familiar, nagging at her brain but she didn’t know how or why. It was strange because she had a feeling that if they had met, she wouldn’t have been able to forget the intense feeling his gaze held or a personality such as his. She had honestly hoped he hadn’t noticed her lack of name in return but it seems as usual for today, she was out of luck. ”Where’s the fun in being normal?, she questioned with a playful smirk, ducking under his arm before turning to walk backwards towards the door so she could continue to look upon him. ”Perhaps after that drink, I might be inclined to return a name to you.”

Fenrir followed, leaving the thief in a crumpled heap, his ability to speak finally having waned. Smokey would help him to hospital and then any & all communication would cease. The man was already out of his mind as he chuckled at the woman's words. "As you wish." He smiled wolfishly as they made their way back through the door. His eyes flitted to the dancers but he wasn't really watching, more taking note. It was a habit one developed after decades of thievery. The first rule of casing a joint; make sure you know it as well as the back of your hand. But he wasn't here for work so he let himself relax, nimbly moving to the side to let a waitress carrying a platter of drinks pass by.

As they approached the bar the god took a seat, resting his folded arms against the sparkling surface. "So here's what I have so far...you work in this fine establishment. You don't tolerate bullshit. And you're extremely cautious." Fenrir observed bluntly, though there was no judgement in his tone. It simply was. A list of facts…or at least what he presumed were likely to be facts. "Oh, and I'll have whatever you're having." He added as an afterthought, pushing his card towards her.

”Oh? Is that so?”, she questioned, her tone playful and light as she slid her fingers across the bar, slowly snatching the card pushed in her direction and giving it a twist to see both sides. Of course he had to be competition, the name Nightingale familiar but one she had never ventured a journey in. It was surprising that one of his ex-employees would choose to come here instead of just going to the other establishment. She wasn’t one to look into those things though, it just hinted that maybe there was more going on just like the Jade Jaguar but what, she wasn’t completely sure. Normally, she would have just slid around the bar and started on their drinks but instead she decided to keep it simple. No need to lay out all of your cards, especially if someone wanted to know them.

The current bartender strolled over, not even having time to ask before Hathor spoke up without moving her gaze from her new companion. ”Two shots of tequila and keep ‘em comin’, she said before leaning against the bar. ”So here’s what I have so far…you are overly observant. You are blunt and straightforward with your words. You are nimble but I’m not sure if that is due to skill or just a natural ability. Oh…and you are terrible at nicknames or I’m going to pray that no parent would willingly name their child fruitcake. How am I doing so far?”, she asked with a sly grin, taking the newly deposited shot and tossing it back in one easy motion.

"You think I named him Fruitcake? I try to call them by their real names but they hate it." Fenrir shrugged; it was true. Superstitious shits. They'd also refuse to walk over cracks in the sidewalk and have to drink exactly one & a half shots of vodka before going on a job. It wasn't his place to tell them otherwise however. "But you're doing okay. I'll give you like a...7/10. I'd hire you." He grinned as if this entire scenario were some grand and ridiculous job interview. Taking a hold of his tequila shot after the barman had returned, he held it up to his companion before downing it smoothly.

"Are you sure we haven't met before? You're annoyingly familiar." He looked at her appraisingly as he leant back in his chair. Fenrir didn't mean to be so, well...nosey but he was prone to curiosity and she was being so stubborn that it was intriguing. The aztec goddess who owned this establishment clearly hired both mortals and gods bu-... He abruptly clicked the fingers of one hand in a sudden burst of excitement. "That's it! Damn I'm slow today." The wolf crossed his arms across his chest, a satisfied look spreading across his features. He knew she was of the egyptian pantheon but he couldn't quite remember her name. Sure he could just text Tlaz but that was far too easy.

She chuckled, taking another shot in her hand and holding it up back at him in a mini toast before tossing it back. ”Good to know I have a backup offer should I need it.”, she teased, about ready for the next shot but pausing at his question. Hath raised a brow, trying to think of where she had seen him before because he had seemed vaguely familiar but it came up blank. ”Only annoyingly? I must be losing my touch. I agree you seem familiar but I’m not sure we have met. Perhaps we have seen each other in passing.”, she suggested with a light shrug. It wasn’t something she was all too concerned about since a lot of faces passed her way when she was behind the bar, dancing, or the odd times she worked in Illicit. However, he did tempt her curiosity with the sudden burst of excitement, his words queuing in that he had figured something out. If she hadn’t been positive before then the cat eating a canary look definitely confirmed it. She should have been more curious about what she was forgetting but for a moment, his satisfied appearance was rather distracting. Thank goodness Tlaz wasn’t here or she would be meddling and also ecstatic that she was having drinks with a man. It wasn’t something she typically indulged in unless it was among friends. ”Care to share your epiphany or am I being left mysteriously in the dark?”

"I don't know..." He smiled light-heartedly, eyes scanning over the face of the goddess, which he had to admit was outstandingly beautiful. "I might be persuaded if I knew your name first." His words were searching and he knew that she was just as likely to get annoyed by him, as give him any answers. This didn't however stop Fenrir from raising a playful eyebrow at her. Pausing, his eyes strayed to the barman who had come closer to the pair again. "Do you have a pen?" He asked, patiently waiting as the mortal nodded & passed him one.

The next tequila shot went down as easily as the first, and afterwards Fenrir grabbed a nearby beer mat. Turning it over he began to scribble on its surface, using his free hand to hide whatever he was doing from his companion. "I'll give you a clue." He said as he continued drawing, finally pushing a very crude image of an hourglass in front of her. It was admittedly, a frustratingly vague clue, and more a bitter nod to the vulnerable nature of these new lives they led.

A sly smile played on her lips and she sipped her drink, not planning on answering him but intrigued that he wanted to know her name so badly. The last mortal she had let close had turned out to be a god and now was gone. She wasn’t sure getting attached to another mortal that would ultimately lead to just a friendship or break up when it got serious instead of just for fun was a good idea though he was making it awfully tempting. His personality kept her on her toes and helped her forget her worries of the day while his appearance was just an overall bonus, one that she very much appreciated but she could get used to being around this man. Hathor arched a brow as he asked for a pen and proceeded to draw a simple hourglass which gave her absolutely no clue what he could have meant. Was he trying to just say they had met sometime? Because that was a bit too obvious so it had to be something else.

If he wanted to play a game though, she was more than happy to oblige. She slid off the barstool, moving to stand between his legs as she ran her hand over his shoulder, down his arm, up his hand, and stopping at the tip of the pen before plucking it gently from his fingers. She pulled his hand close to her, softly uncurling his fingers before doing the same trick he had earlier to block the view of what she was writing on the palm of his hand and curling his hand back into a fist when she was done. Hath kept his fist in her hands for a moment, placing a chaste kiss to his knuckles before glancing into his eyes as she spoke, ”Until we meet again.” With that being said, Hathor made her way out of the bar, looking confident in her strides though she was feeling anything but that as she found herself once more in the back of a taxi that evening.

[AlteredTundra]

Finding Help

_{Location: Anubis’ Condo
Interactions: Ares, Isabel @Legion02 & Anubis @metanoia
Mentions: Sekhmet @Aewin}

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Isabel wanted to scream. She wanted to put up the loudest techno she could find in the car. She wanted to open the door and jump out. There were a myriad of things she would rather do than sit in silence in her father’s car as he drove her to… somewhere. The silence cut deeper than any knife ever could. She kept fidgeting in her chair. The outside lights couldn’t distract her. Her hand kept going to her leg. An hour ago there would’ve been stitched and a deep wound. Now it was completely healed. How!?

She wanted to ask her father, but she couldn’t. Not right now. Ares had only ever been this serious one time before in her life. Back then she was just a teenager. She kept asking what was wrong. Why she suddenly had to pack and leave? He didn’t snap in the way she thought he would back then. He just told her that she would either gather her things and get in the car or drag her into the car, kicking and screaming if he had to.

He never told her what they were fleeing from. It only happened once though.

Now it felt like it was happening again. There was an unmistakable tension in the car. The same one as before.

They drove for what felt like three days but in reality it was less than an hour. They reached some sort of fancy apartment complex. “We’re here.” Alexander said. Her eyes looked up. Most of the lights were out. One stood out though.

Her father took her inside and into the elevator. Her heart was beating in her chess. What was ‘here’? Some sort of cult? Maybe some sort of secret CIA initiator? What was happening? They stepped out of the elevator and headed for one of the doors in the condominium. Before her father rang the bell he turned toward her.

“I haven’t said it often.” He said. “And I’m sorry for that. I love you, Isabel. I have always loved you. I will never stop loving you. You’ve made me proud.” He paused for a moment. There was a strange, uncharacteristic anxiousness on his face. “What’s going to happen now… it won’t be easy. There will be… talking. Answers too, hopefully. But a lot of talking. There’s no punching your way through what’s coming. There is no weakness you can exploit. It will just be.. a lot of talking. So I want you to take your own pace. If you need time you take it. As much as you think you need. Okay?”

Isabel’s lip quivered for a second. For the first time in far too long, she felt herself crack. Not even while being tortured in the hospital by that hag did she feel this vulnerable. Yet now her heart was beating in her chest like it wanted to break free. She didn’t have the words right now. So she just hugged her father and held him tight. Hoping he would never let her go.

They hugged for minutes. Ares never let her go. Only when she released her embrace did he ring the bell on the front door.

And the door opened not even ten seconds later. A man who wasn’t really a man. A god of the Egyptian Pantheon, a man whose skin was like night and had the faintest hint of grey around the beard that hugged his face from the edges of his sideburns all the way around under the bottom lip and over the top lip. Anubis met the two who came to his condo so late, yet he was expecting them. He wore what he always wore in impromptu appointments: an outfit assortment consisting of a sweater vest, a tie, slacks, and oxford tipped shoes. HIs outfit was all colored in soft browns and light tans. The vest was a combo of each, the slacks black, and shoes were white and sienna.

Anubis let his guests in. “Please, come in,” the Guider of Souls said in a deep, soothing voice, though vaguely British in how it sounded. When Ares and his daughter stepped into his condo and the door gently closed behind them, he led the two inside on the couch. For such a late and last minute request, at the behest of his acquaintance, of course, this was the best that Anubis could do. Ideally, he would prefer to have done it at his official practice, which was to say just down the block, but he couldn’t dare bother his assistant this late at night. Sarah was a sweet mortal woman that Anubis hadn’t the heart to interrupt her, not on her day off.

Besides, Anubis had been, as it was with him internally, struggling with the loss of life he sensed earlier in the day. He persisted on and took a seat opposite of the Greek God of War and his companion. “I hope you know it’s not common to take such impromptu calls, Alexander. But I understand the urgency.” Anubis took a moment to examine the woman sitting next to the usually stoic god of war. It was clear to him that she was in some state of distress. She went through something traumatic recently. The stain of pain was as fresh as the feeling of melancholy still within him from what he sensed earlier. “My name is Dr. Darius Amentiu, or if it eases you so, you may just refer to me as Darius.” He said to the lady with a gentle smile. A thought came to him about whether or not she knew about them. If she knew they were divine.

Isabel’s eyes were trained on this ‘Darius’. She didn’t return the smile. It was a habit. Any emotion at all could be used against her. That’s how things went in a courtroom. In fact, that’s how things throughout her life so far. “Dr. Amentiu.” She greeted him as politely and stiffly as possible. Though she refused to use his offered name. Not so much because she felt at ease. Gods no. She did it to maintain distance. It took all but a second for her to clock what he was: a shrink. She had dealt with them before. At the insistence of both her middle and high school.

“Isabel… knows something is up.” Alexander, sitting beside her said in a rather matter-of-factly way. “I would’ve wished to introduce her into this world more… slowly. But things happened. She had an encounter with Sekhmet that would leave… one short of a rational explanation. I was hoping you would be able to help us with what comes next.”

The only mortal in the room almost let herself react to that information. The name Sekhmet sounded familiar. Was he speaking about Dr. Ayad? Sekhmet must be some sort of alias. It was something to start looking through. That combined with hospital employment records would give her enough. For now, though, she had to get through whatever this was going to be. Which became more and more confusing.

“I understand.” He noted, taking his eyes from the god of war to Isabel. To have such an encounter, even with one of the more compassionate gods in his pantheon, would shock any mortal. Anubis had known many strong-willed mortals and something as daunting as the knowledge of divinity would shake them. Isabel seemed to be such a mortal, but there was something else. Something that either Ares wasn’t admitting or that maybe he wouldn’t?

He kept his kind eyes and smile on Isabel before turning them onto Ares. “Alexander, for…this to be as helpful as I am sure you want it to be, respectfully, I think it is best you give us some time. Perhaps two hours should suffice?” Though late, Anubis recognized this was a special case and above all else, Isabel seemed to be distressed about something. Maybe it was what Ares refused to disclose? If it was, Anubis had to tread carefully. Ares was an acquaintance, but Isabel would be his priority here on out.

“I understand.” Ares replied. Before he left he did turn towards Isabel. “Be good, okay. I’ll be back in two hours. Just like I promised. I’ll always be back.”

The words grabbed a memory that Isabel thought she had long forgotten. She was standing at an airport. Her nanny stood beside her. She was watching her father leave again. He always left. But he always came back. She kept herself cold. That was the best for her and she knew it. Stay cold. Stay strong. That’s how you survive. So she showed not even a hint of emotion.

Alexander just smiled and got up. “I do, truly, appreciate this doctor.” He told Dr. Amentiu. Then he quite unceremoniously left.

Isabel sat down stiff on the couch with her arms and legs crossed. She had to stay strong. One moment of longing… One sign that she missed him… But she did miss him. She turned around, just for a second. All she saw was a closed door. Her heart collapsed. Only her heart though.

She turned back towards Dr. Amentiu. “So what now? Are you going to show me blobs of ink and ask me what I see? Dead people by the way. I see dead people in all of them.” She said and she made very little effort to hide her sarcasm. After all, Mao Zedong himself said that the only real defense is an active defense.

Anubis chuckled and hummed thoughtfully. “We could do that if it is what you want. It has proven to be helpful with some of my patients. It would resonate with them in some way, but perhaps not in your case.” Anubis crossed one leg over the other, the foot of the crossed leg resting just before his knee. “It’s interesting you would say dead people though. Do you see a lot of death in your line of work, Isabel?”

“No more than others.” A lie. As a criminal defense lawyer she had seen her fair share of dead bodies in pictures. The first few times she always felt like she was going to hurl. The first time she saw a live dead cadaver she actually did hurl. Not that she was going to admit to that. If she didn’t speak about it and nobody else knows about it then it didn’t happen, or so she wanted it to be. “And I don’t want to talk about blobs, I want-“ She stopped herself.

This was a dangerous subject. One wrong word and he could latch on to the wrong thing. She took her sweet time mulling over her words after that. Until she was confident about what to say: “What I want is to know how a deep cut made by glass could heal in less than a minute.” She said as neutral as possible. Though she didn’t uncross any of her limbs.

There was no doubt this was about what Ares mentioned. And her encounter with Sekhmet. Anubis closed his eyes for a short moment. In all the times he had to see patients -- both divine and mortal -- there were certain challenges, difficulties that would arise during sessions. Whether it was about the credibility of Anubis’ qualifications or deflecting from the core of the issue, there was always one. He was a patient god and one who understood (probably better than most) the weight that a heavy heart and soul could do to a person, no matter who or what they were.

Proceeding carefully, Anubis finally spoke, “That is not a simple question that I can just answer in a black and white sense. But I also am not Alexander and withholding truths from you isn’t what either of us are here for. When he came here and you sat on that couch you are sitting on now, it was decided that my priority would be whatever was in your best interest.” Anubis was trying not to let it show but he held a certain anger for Ares. He didn’t know the specifics, but he could make his best educated guess that something traumatic happened. ]“If it is what will ease your heart, then I shall tell you. Certain individuals exist that are capable of feats that surpass what you might consider…normal. Like healing a freshly-cut wound.” Anubis wouldn’t have divulged this had she not already been exposed to the existence of Gods.He still would go at a pace he felt she could ease into better.

Isabel scoffed when the good doctor said that he wasn’t like her father. That he would make her his priority right now. Nobody was that selfless. He was probably getting a fat cheque from her father for this. He did find a way to finally capture her genuine attention. When he talked about how there are people out there with capacities beyond the normal she ever so slightly leaned in. For the longest time she suspected something was up. Her father didn’t have a single gray hair on his head. Despite having to be at least near sixty. He should look old. Instead he barely looked forty. And then there was of course the whole Sekhmet mess.

She latched on that subject in a second. “So how did she do it?” She immediately asked. Though for once she sounded genuinely curious. The question wasn’t some thinly veiled attack. At first she thought it would be magic. That was ridiculous of course. She had long since stopped believing in magic. Again, absent-mindedly, she rubbed the leg where she got stabbed. “Stem cells? Nano-machines?” Both were nothing but ideas so far. Still, those were the most likely options.

And then she realized she wasn’t thinking big enough. It wasn’t just the healing. Her eyes looked down as she started thinking. Her father didn’t age. The doctor could heal. There was some other crazy ‘family member’ who was holding back something. Then her eyes shifted toward the good doctor in front of her. “My dad… Dr. Ayad… You. Who… what are you?”

Anubis could see it from a mile away. Isabel was an intelligent woman. Not that he was that surprised by it. She was Ares’ daughter, after all. The apple never fell far, but her natural instinct to show her temper was another thing he had heard the God of War was known for. Anubis had his temper. Everyone of divinity had one to an extent, but those born of war were more prone to it. Anubis had seen this in many of his patients that were of their kind.

And now a mortal born from it..no, a demigod, knew about it, as well.

He smiled at the Daughter of War. “I promised I would not lie to you. To prove that, I will answer as simply as I can. Truth is, we are divine beings. Your father spoke of Sekhmet, which I’ve no doubt you have surmised is Dr. Ayad. As for myself, well I have been known by many names over the years, but I believe the most common and most popular is Anubis and it’s one I am quite fond of myself.” He wondered what this would do to her internally. Anubis had never dreamed that he would reveal his true identity to a patient, but Isabel was far from a normal patient. She was of divine blood. She was one of them. No matter what has happened, that much couldn’t be denied nor ignored.

A wheezing laugh echoed through the good doctor’s entire condo. Isabel couldn’t contain herself. “Gods?” She managed to squeeze out before her laugh overtook her again. So far she had figured the names would be codenames. It took a solid minute of laughing before she finally managed to gather herself. Her stomach hurt from it. Or perhaps from the many other things that transpired in just the last few hours. Still, Isabel couldn’t believe it.

“And what? My father is Horus? No, no, Apophis? Seth?” Her tone made it clear that she was mocking the very concept of them being divine. It was too ridiculous to be true. Eventually, she looked the good doctor in the eyes though. “You’re not really expecting me to believe that pile of crap right? Gods don’t exist. They never existed. They were just… manifestations of humanity’s imagination to explain phenomena they couldn’t understand. They’re just placeholders for science.” Before, Thor created thunderstorms and Ra pulled the sun from horizon to horizon. These days humanity knew better. Atmospheric pressure differences create lightning and the earth spins because of gravity. The healing had to have some scientific explanation. It had to. It absolutely had to.

Though Anubis did not show it, that mention of Seth riled something inside him that he had, for the most part, mastered to keep it from bellowing to the surface. “I didn’t expect you to believe me at face value.” He uncrossed his legs but didn’t stand up -- not yet, at least. He knew simply telling her the truth wouldn’t work. Part of him knew that but he had to try anyway. No, he was understanding Isa more and more. One thing he was certain of was how she was someone who needed more than just the word of a doctor that she didn’t know an hour ago. “If you are open to it, I would like to show you something, Isabel.”

“If it will make me laugh as much as I just did then sure. Show me what you got.” Isabel leaned back smugly in the couch. She wasn’t entirely sure what would come next. In truth it all had to be a joke. It had to be, because if it wasn’t there was something deeply wrong. Was her father in some sort of cult?

He chuckled only slightly and only because of what he was about to do, there was indeed a chance that she could laugh. “To make this as clear as I possibly can make it, though you do not believe me just yet, we of divinity have certain domains and with that comes special powers. Sekhmet, as you probably realized, is a healer, but as for me, well--” As he lifted his right hand, though faint in visibility, a purple smoke started to emit from his palm and slowly ascended as it coiled around each finger. It concentrated on the tips and started to flow towards Isabel. Then, in a single blink of his eyes, which had been solely locked on his patient, the smoke faded into particles of dust, reappearing around Isabel. He made it possible that she could see it until she couldn’t. “And this is mine, Isabel. Tell me, what are you feeling right now?”

For a second she frowned. Her eyes looked away. Then her muscles relaxed. For the first time in far too long she realized she was holding a horrible amount of tension inside of her. Her blood felt warmer as it flowed through her. At the same time a clarity went through her mind. As if suddenly someone pulled away the clouds to show her what really mattered. Things were falling into place like puzzle pieces. “I feel… afraid.” She confessed. “Dad is… always so… far away. He’s the only one I have. I don’t want lose-“

A paranoid brain always questions itself. The moment those words left her lips she realized something was up. Alarms rang out in her head. Walls rose up from the metaphorical ground that reached high. The sensations of relaxation vanished in an instant. A wide-eyed Isabel, who was having tears form in her eyes, suddenly snapped back. But she did turn pale. It was a trick. It had to be. Elsewise she would have never said those things. The CIA had something. A drug that made you tell the truth. She heard about it. That had to be it. No, wait. It was smokey, whatever happened. None of it made sense.

“W-Wait.” She said as a dizzy spell knocked her for a loop for a second. She couldn’t look at the good doctor. Instead she was pulling herself up from the couch. Who else had these things? These domains? She pressed her nails down into her arm. The pain mixed with adrenaline jolted her awake. Her mind bounced back to the question at the center of it all now. She looked up towards the good doctor. “Who’s my father then?”

Anubis watched her closely, observed her every move with watchful eyes. She had started to accept it, but then fought against the effects of the smoke. Anubis never forced it on anyone. His power, at least the version of it since the fall, was about free will and the power of whoever was on the receiving end to accept its effects and let it happen naturally and with their consent. Isabel was initially accepting of it, but she started to reject it. That’s what he found interesting. Interesting in the sense that maybe she was open to the process? And not just doing this because Alexander had forced her to.

When she asked about her father, he considered the possibilities of how the God of War would react when it reached back to the Guider of Souls. But Ares should’ve known that whatever happened, Anubis’ main priority has and always will be his patients. He took his seat, crossed his legs, and took a moment before he answered her question. “Your father has gone by many names. Over the years, I’m sure, he has adopted a lot of aliases. But you might know his true name as Ares, the Greek God of War.”

In a way, the information was everything she ever wanted and far too much. It was as if a single cog fell exactly in place that made the entire machine work in her mind. Only for her to realize that the whole thing was spinning far too fast.

For the first time in her whole life, Isabel felt completely overtaken by dread. She would fight it. So far she had fought everything that came at her like this. She fought that bully in middle school. She fought against those fratboys thinking she would make for a good conquest. Hell, she fought against her peers in the law firm. Every time she came out on top. Every time it confirmed to her that she was a fighter. All of that collapsed. Only one thing went through her mind.

“I have to get out of here.” She mumbled. It was barely audible. Luckily for her, she was already on her two legs. Isabel gave the good doctor Anubis one final look before she burst into a sprint. With a fluid motion, she ripped open the front door and barreled down the stairwell.

[Akayaofthemoon]

_{location: Beach ➟ Hotel
interactions: Aphrodite, Ares
mentions: Children of Ares, Tlaz@KZOMBI3}

---

An inner struggle took place as she lay there, each attempt to move felt weak at first, as if her limbs were weighed down by lead and uncontrolled by her own efforts. Nothing was worse though than when her heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open to take in the stretch of beach, burning at the strain to keep them focused. Sound filtered in around, attention brought to the cry of birds, the sound of comforting waves that lapped against her skin, and the patter of rain as it fell into the damp sand which soaked her further. A shiver ran down her spine, the grogginess and disorientation letting up to jolt her upright at the sensation of cold sinking into her form. She buried her hands into the sand, panicky glancing around her as she waited for this to be proof of another nightmare but finding none. ’Πού είμαι? Πώς έφτασα εδώ?’ (Where am I? How did I get here?), she spoke to herself.

This place was unknown but the location and her current attire or lack thereof was very remiencent of the past. The day had been sunny then, blooming with potential and possibility when she emerged from the seafoam, newly created and feeling powerful enough to take on the world and crush those who wouldn’t bend to her whims. Never with true violence mind you but Aphrodite knew a thing or two about getting even. Now though, she didn’t feel strong…in fact, her power felt so little that it felt a sliver in comparison and that was a bit terrifying. 'Τι μου συνέβη? Που είναι τα παιδιά μου? Είναι ασφαλείς? Χρειάζομαι απαντήσεις τώρα.’, (’What happened to me? Where are my children? Are they safe? I need answers, now.) were her first thoughts now that she was in a better space, finding the will to stand and starting to walk towards mortal civilization or at least what she could assume it was from the strange building and structures in the distance. The mortals would take her to Ares temple and then she would be able to meet with her family again.

Fate had more direct plans.

Ares was standing on the pier overlooking the beach. A cover kept him dry for now. The street lights were further off. It was 3 am by now. He hadn’t slept. He drew a drag from his cigarette. The embers lit up the lowest part of his face for a second before it faded again. This was the first moment of serenity he had felt in the last twenty-four hours. In the distance he saw a singular figure coming from the darkness of the beach. Ares checked his watch. 3 am. If the murders and the kidnapping hadn’t happened he would’ve tried to be with Tlaz right now. To show that he was different, and to beg forgiveness for what he had done three decades ago.

Instead he didn’t know what to do anymore. Isabel had done something, though she refused outright to tell him what. The way Hathor spoke about it didn’t bode well. Then again, he wasn’t sure if it was just Hathor trying to destroy any chance of love now. He took another drag and let out a gentle stream of smoke. The figure lacked any clothes. That earned her a raised eyebrow from the god of war but his mind quickly shifted his thoughts back to Tlaz. What his heart still wanted was facing an endless amount of challenges it would seem. Like Sisyphus, was he too working on something that could never be completed? Were they doomed?

Then Ares recognized the figure. His cig dropped to the ground. “Aphrodite?” He asked almost purely out of instinct, forgetting that they were in the mortal world. Ares didn’t wait for an answer. His eyes had never betrayed him before. He rushed towards the pier’s railing as he was taking off his coat. The cold, Seattle rain quickly drenched his shirt. With a smooth motion he jumped over the rails, landed on the sand and rolled. All the while keeping his coat off the ground and clean. The fall barely slowed him as he ran over to his first love.

He didn’t wait for her to speak as he got close. Nor did he say anything. First he swung his heavy coat around her, making sure she’d protected from the nighttime rain.

She instantly hugged the coat tighter around her frame, trying to soak up as much warmth from the lingering body heat as possible as she leaned against her first love and the father to most of her children. She thought it would take so much longer to find him but she should have known better. He always disappeared but moments like these, he would reappear which always made it that much harder. ”Μετά από τόσο καιρό και είσαι ακόμα ο ήρωάς μου όταν το χρειάζομαι περισσότερο... γεια σου Άρη.” (After all this time and you're still my hero when I need it most... hello Ares.), Aphrodite smiled weakly before speaking again, ”Λυπάμαι που έπρεπε να με δεις έτσι.” (I'm sorry you had to see me like this.)

“Μη ζητάς συγγνώμη.” (Don’t apologize). He said as he wrapped his arms around her slowly. For a moment he just hugged her in the rain. A shiver went through him. it wasn’t from the cold. As he hugged her, he felt a heavy weight fall from his shoulders.

Of course it couldn’t last. Pothos was still missing. Two of the Greek pantheon were dead. Aphrodite’s sudden appearance couldn’t be a coincidence. It had been frustration on a fruitless search so far that made him search for a quiet spot. Now he had something he could do again though. He could care for his first love. He released her from his hug but kept a hold on her shoulders. “Ελα. Πρέπει να σε βγάλουμε από αυτή τη βροχή.” (Come. We should get you out of this rain.) He took her hand and gently led her towards the pier and his parked car.

She had held him close, hugging him in return and taking a moment to be selfish and bask in the simple act of comfort though she wasn’t sure if it was more for her sake or his own. Something wasn’t right, she knew him well enough to sense it but Ares had always been stubborn and would speak when he was ready. If he needed silent support, she would offer it. He was the one person so far (other than her children of course) that she would drop anything on a dime if he simply asked even if she thought he was a complete moron sometimes. These kinds of moments were always what took her heart away but made it worse when she had to watch him go. Aphrodite held his hand tighter, leaned into him as if they were lovers on a peaceful stroll while they walked to the strangest contraption she had ever seen. It seemed that she had been gone far longer than she had first believed. ”Πες μου...πόσο καιρό πέρασε?” (Tell me...how long has it been?), she nervously asked though she tried her best to hide it, afraid to know all that she had missed.

“Δύο χιλιετίες.” (Two millenia), Ares answered. That alone would probably be a shock to her. He didn’t want to burden her with the myriad of things that had happened just since this morning. Let alone in the last few centuries. For now all he wanted was to get her somewhere comfortable and safe. He opened the passenger door for her and bid her to enter. Once inside he quickly got in and started driving. His mind was off the road though.

“Πως αισθάνεσαι?”(How are you feeling?) He asked as he zoomed through traffic. This sort of environment must be confusing to her. Still, he wanted to make sure that at the very least she was healthy. If not well, he knew at least which hospital not to visit. With his right hand he made sure to keep a hold of her hand. Just to make sure that he was still here.

”Είναι πολλά να δεχτώ, αλλά εκτός από αυτό είμαι καλά.” (It's a lot to take in, but other than that I'm fine.), Aphro answered, trying to be brave in the face of what she had learned. She had been gone for so long and the world had clearly changed more than she could have ever conceived while trapped in slumber. If she was a better goddess, she would have expressed how grateful she was that he was here, holding her hand and being her anchor of strength even though they had split ways. It meant a lot that she could still lean on him when her world was falling around her. She would never express her thanks though, not verbally anyway. Instead, she just gripped his hand like a life line because it was scary to think of the time she had lost, what she would need to learn, and also what was happening in the lives of those she loved. She knew this was selfish to ask but she couldn’t help herself, ”Θα μείνετε? Ή με πας σε ένα από τα παιδιά μας?” (Will you stay? Or are you taking me to one of our children?)

“Θα μείνω. Τουλάχιστον για λίγο.” (I will stay. At least for a little while.) His mind reached back towards Isabel with Anubis. He still had an hour and a half. Still, he would have to get his own daughter soon. Far too soon. And it had to be him. He would have to explain that later though. For a moment he looked over and smiled. This – driving with Aphrodite next to him and having the city lights wash over them again and again – felt strangely nice. Eventually, he reached the hotel parking lot though.

“Οι θνητοί ήταν απασχολημένοι τα τελευταία χρόνια.” (Mortals have been busy these last few years), he said as he led her towards the large tower hotel. Aphrodite’s beauty drew literally every gaze in the entire lobby. Her attire – or lack thereof – drew a lot of attention. Still, Ares led her towards the elevators and then to his hotel room. He led her inside and finally closed the door. “Είσαι ασφαλής εδώ.” (You are safe here), he said. “Θέλετε κάτι?” (Do you want anything?)

She felt more relaxed at his answer, knowing she would be able to get her ground before seeing her children. She loved them so, but sometimes it was a struggle to keep a handle on them. She didn’t want to be alone though when traversing the new and strange mortal realm so to have him by her side, even for a bit, was a positive that she hadn’t thought he would do. Aphrodite smiled at him in return, still thinking that this was when he looked his best. He was made for war, that serious expression and the fallen at his feet were enough to make anyone’s heart race but this….this side was what had made her come back repeatedly over their long life span but it was too much of a struggle when the hard moments hit and with him that was many even when he didn’t mean to.

”σαφώς.” (Clearly.), Aphro stated after they came to a stop, looking up at the manmade structure as she exited the vehicle. The entire city had been impressive so far, not even taking their transportation into question but she was looking forward to checking out the inside of at least one of them. As they stepped in, gazes immediately flocked to her person but this was nothing she wasn’t used to as mortals had never been able to resist and even more so in her current attire. She held her head high, strolling as if she couldn’t be bothered to meet their gaze or worry over what opinions they might have. She was a pretty face but she wasn’t dumb, Ares blended with the same dress as these mortals and while hers was less than favorable, she wouldn’t draw more attention than they had already. He continued to lead her, not putting up a fuss as he did so and was happy to be away from prying eyes and somewhere she knew was safe because Ares had said so. He had never lied about his protection of her. ”Μόνο εσύ…” (Only you…), she answered before realizing how that might sound with their past and while a fling would be fun, that wasn’t exactly what she had meant. ”Κράτα με για λίγο.” (Hold me for a while.)

Ares took a step away from Aphrodite when she asked that. “Που δεν μπορώ να σου δώσω.” (That I can’t give you), Ares said quickly. He really did want to hold her. Like he did before the fall. Out of everyone in Olympus, he really only felt safe and happy with Aphrodite. At least he did, until Hephaestus had to shatter that. And now she was here again and so close too. Still, he refused. “Η καρδιά μου είναι κάποιου άλλου.” (My heart is someone else’s.)

”Δεν ζητάω την καρδιά σου...ξέρω πώς είναι μεταξύ μας. Χρειάζομαι απλά παρηγοριά από κάποιον που εμπιστεύομαι. Σίγουρα ο νέος σας εραστής θα καταλάβει.” (I'm not asking for your heart...I know how it is between us. I just need comfort from someone I trust. Surely your new lover will understand.), she answered before reaching for that sliver of power she felt and putting it to use. Aphrodite didn’t know what she would still be able to do but if it could help her persuade him then she would selfishly use it to her advantage. She knew it wasn’t fair of her to do, not to him or his new lover but old habits die hard. She liked getting what she wanted and was stubborn enough to try until she was left with no more options.”Σε παρακαλώ Άρη, υπόσχομαι ότι δεν θα δοκιμάσω τίποτα.” (Please Ares, I promise I won't try anything.)

The scent of sandalwood and chocolate was drawing him in. His heart started to beat just a little faster. His body wanted to get closer to her. Aphrodite was still as enthralling as ever. In a strange way she was reminding him of all the things he loved about Tlaz. Aphrodite had a way to fan his flames though. Back on Olympus the goddess of love could tease him in such a way that he actually liked it. She gave him a thrill, just like a certain goddess of sin.

“Δεν μπορώ.” (I can’t), Ares said as he took a step closer and gently took her by the shoulders. “Ακόμα σε νοιάζομαι, Αφροδίτη. Αλλά ακριβώς γι' αυτό πρέπει να έχουμε όρια και να μην τα ξεπερνάμε ποτέ.” (I still care for you Aphrodite. But exactly because of that should we have boundaries and never cross them). With that said he reached over and kissed her forehead.

She took one of his hands from her shoulder, pressing it against her cheek as she nodded in defeat and tried to not feel the sting of rejection even though she knew he was right. She looked up at him, sighing as she pressed a hand to his cheek and looking up at him with a soft expression. Καταλαβαίνω...δεν μπορώ να πω ότι είμαι χαρούμενος γι' αυτό, αλλά καταλαβαίνω. (I understand...I can't say I'm happy about it, but I understand.), Aphrodite said, pausing a moment before continuing. ”Αν δεν επιτρέπεται να με παρηγορήσεις, τουλάχιστον άσε με να κάνω κάτι για να σε παρηγορήσω. Άρης, πες μου τι φταίει? Μη με κρατάς στο σκοτάδι. (If you are not allowed to comfort me, at least let me do something to comfort you. Ares, tell me what's wrong? Don't keep me in the dark.)

“Η επιστροφή σας είναι παράξενα δυσοίωνη.” (Your return is strangely inauspicious), Ares said as he gently took Aprhodite’s hand on his cheek and guided her towards the lounge area of the hotel room. “Οι θεοί εδώ δεν μπορούν να πεθάνουν. Όχι πραγματικά. Πληγές που θα σκότωναν έναν κανονικό θνητό θεραπεύονται γρήγορα πάνω μας.” (Gods here cannot die. Not really. Wounds that would kill a regular mortal heal fast on us), he continued as he bid her to sit down on the couch. “Ή έτσι νομίζαμε. Σήμερα, κοντά στο μεσημέρι, πέθαναν ο Ζαγρέας και η Μακαρία.” (Or so we thought. Today, near midday, Zagreus and Macaria died.) He made sure to keep her hand in his as he sat down as well beside her. Though his head drooped down in nothing but pure shame. How could he not? His own child was taken right from under his nose. He had failed protecting her. “Και ο Πόθος απήχθη.” (And Pothos was kidnapped.)

She hasn’t really considered what being on the mortal plane would mean for her continued existence. The knowledge that they couldn’t die was a peaceful one, giving her hope that she would be able to see the rest of her loved ones very soon but that was shattered quickly at the news of two underworld deaths. Her heart went out to them as no parent should have to lose a child but his next words were the ones that hurt. She felt panic, horror, fear, and then pure unfiltered rage. Someone had taken her child on the same day they could have been reunited. It was obvious to her that he felt shame and maybe even blame for the hideous act of another. Aphrodite steeled herself, cupping his face so he was looking at her once more. ”Αυτή η έκφραση δεν σου ταιριάζει. Άρη, δεν φταις εσύ… γιατί πώς να ξέρεις ότι κάποιος θα ήταν τόσο τολμηρός. Ωστόσο, αυτά τα συναισθήματα δεν θα βοηθήσουν το παιδί μας, γι' αυτό απωθήστε το από τις σκέψεις σας. Εστιάστε σε αυτό που μπορείτε να κάνετε τώρα. Δείξε μου αυτή την αποφασιστικότητα και την εμπιστοσύνη που ερωτεύτηκα. Βρείτε την και φέρτε την στο σπίτι, τιμωρήστε όσους τόλμησαν να αμφισβητήσουν τον Θεό του Πολέμου. (This expression does not suit you. Ares, it's not your fault… because how did you know someone would be so bold. However, these feelings will not help our child, so push them out of your thoughts. Focus on what you can do now. Show me that determination and confidence that I fell in love with. Find her and bring her home, punish those who dared to challenge the God of War.)

But it was his fault.

How could it not be? It was his duty to protect those closest to him. What else was he good for, really? The shame he felt would never go away. Aphrodite did strike the nail on its head on one point though. Whoever took Pothos, whoever was stupid enough to challenge him did not know what was coming. Maybe they thought he had become weak in these last few years. Maybe he had. That would change.

In the next hour he explained the goddess of love how the new world worked. He did keep checking his watch. After all, he still had to pick up Isabel from Anubis. After an hour - which was still not enough time - he managed to give her a phone filled with the phone number of every Greek god Ares knew of and a black credit card. There was no way the goddess of love could be contained. So Ares figured that at best he could offer her the best tools to make it in the world. After that though, he had to excuse himself.

[KZOMBI3]

---

𝖜 𝖎 𝖘 𝖙 𝖋 𝖚 𝖑
𝖜 𝖎 𝖘 𝖙 𝖋 𝖚 𝖑

_{location: Acropolis
interactions: Phobos@Danvers | Melinoë
mentions: Persephone@Aewin | Hades@sly13 | Aphrodite@Akayaofthemoon
| Ares@Legion02}

---

The walk to her new room seemed to pass her by in the blink of an eye, company present was welcomed and though she didn't want to break down in front of anyone - especially the son of war - Melinoë didn't want to be alone.

Instead she paced the room under the guise of inspecting it, when in truth her eyes were glazed over and nothing was being received. Just running her gaze across the room, again and again until she bumped into the hard frame of Fear himself. A small, "Ow," escaped her as her vision finally focused on his side profile, rubbing her face. "Sorry," it came out somewhere between a grumble and sincere. This was a strange interaction for her, for the both of them she was sure. Normally the two were at each other's throats, goading the other into some stupid game of who was better, even shooting teasing remarks to tip them over the edge. But this silence, the pity that seemed to roll off of him and the others in waves drove her madness.

Grabbing her shoulders firmly, although not enough to hurt her, Phobos steered the goddess towards her new bed. "Sit down." His words were calm but left no room for anything but obedience. He lingered perhaps a moment too long, not wanting to stop the even minute form of contact between them. "...please." Phobos finally added with a soft sigh escaping his lips as he took a seat himself.

It was impossibly awkward. Fear had no experience in comforting those suffering with loss, least of all such cruel deaths, and he was sure the last persons shoulder Mel would want to lean on was his. Yet he found himself unable to leave her side. Steady blue eyes slowly cast over to her petite form, before focusing on her face. She looked so...lost. So unlike the goddess who had never backed away from him, who had never been afraid to tell him the multitude of things he had done wrong.

Perhaps he should try distract her, if only for a moment. He would even prefer if she were to get mad and scream at him, anything but this heavy, oppressive silence. "Do you remember when we were children? When you would visit Mount Olympus?" He asked quietly, eyes flitting away from her face.

She could only hum in response. How could she forget? Visiting Mount Olympus was a treat they got to indulge in every now and then. When her mother would be off completing her duties as per the agreement with Demeter and Hades too busy with his own duties, it was like a summer camp for the Death children. The thought alone made tears well up in the corners of her eyes before she moved to wipe them away.

"You were so scrawny then," she teased weakly, remembering meeting him for the first time. Officially, that is. She knew of him and his siblings, the domains they held power over. Never once seeing it in action but the stories told made her hold a sort of admiration for the god. Melinoë would never admit it out loud to him, for fear it be used against her in relentless teasing.

Nudging his arm, which she noticed had grown since her fond memories of their childhood, to gain his attention and looking at him from the corner of her eye. When had they sat so close to one another? The heat from his body was comforting and she didn't want him to get up. She tried to think of something to get him to stay, just a little longer. "What do you remember most from back then? A favorite memory I guess?"

Phobos frowned in thought. It had been a long time since he had considered his days atop Mount Olympus. It had been his home but more often than not he and his twin sister had been brought to battle, for even as children their father would not allow them to shy away from the brutality of war. His earliest memories were consequently of bloodshed and corpses. "For starters, I wasn't scrawny." He shook his head, though he couldn't stop the corners of his lips tugging up into a small smile. "And I seem to recall being told to look after a certain someone. I think I tried to run away from you on several occasions that day..."

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Phobos glared at his mother, arms crossed sullenly across his chest. "But I don't want to play with her. She's annoying and boring. She's never even seen one battle." For the past twenty minutes he had been arguing with the goddess of love, upset that Eros was apparently practicing his archery and Deimos too unreliable to keep an eye on one of the death dorks. Unfortunately, Aphrodite was not one to be argued with and eventually he was forced to back down. He watched as she walked away, blowing him a kiss as she went. Phobos did not catch it, unlike his older brother.

The young god stared down at his sandaled feet for a few moments before slowly stomping over to where Melinoë waited at the edge of the temple. "You can follow me but if you get lost then that's your problem..." He muttered before shooting her his best 'you're stupid' look, walking away as he adopted a pace far quicker than necessary.

Little Melinoë, with hair of russet that bounced as she bounded after the son of war, had to pull at the skirt of her peplos in order not to trip as she caught up to his long strides. Even though he wasn't but a year or two older than she, his legs were significantly longer and every one stride for him meant she had to add two more. Where are we going today, Pho? Are we setting off on an adventure?" She tugged lightly at the sleeve of his tunic. Even then the nickname was set in place, her cheeks red from the unnatural heat she didn't get to experience in the Underworld.

It was a treat to be able to follow and spend time with him. He was the closest to a friend she had, outside her siblings. Even if he didn't want her around. Melinoë was young but she wasn't unintelligent. She could see the body language, read it as if it were plain as text, could sense the ire ebbing from him when he spoke to his mother - when they were forced to spend time with one another. At first she didn't want anything to do with him either, after learning of his reluctance to play with her. Lately however, she sees it as an opportunity to grate on him. Tease him and get under his skin. If the plan goes well then she is left to wander alone; something she was all told familiar and comfortable with.

Today would be no different, she smirked to herself.

Taking them down a maze of narrow streets, the young child of war walked with a confidence that only came from having done so hundreds of times before. He ducked and swerved past servants carrying bundles of grain, amphorae of wine and fine swathes of cloth. They backed away from him as quickly as if he were cursed, the uncontrolled fear radiating off him dense and palpable. He occasionally scowled at their cowardice but otherwise ignored them completely.

After a while in this manner, the path suddenly opened up in front of them, the hustle and bustle even more pronounced in this region of the mountain top. Crouching behind a large ionic pillar, Phobos finally turned to face Melinoë. "We're going down there." He pointed towards the towering gates of Mount Olympus, passage through which would lead to either the mortal realm or the underworld. Idly chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes narrowed as he tried to think. He wasn't technically allowed down unless there was a battle going on but he figured no-one would miss them if they disappeared for a few hours. The only problem was, there was no way he would be able to use his grandfather's personal portal without the old man's permission. But maybe there was another way…

"You can make people go mad right?" His blue eyes fixed on Mel, gaze intense as he waited for an answer.

Melinoë stared ahead but gave a small nod in response. Attention solely focused on the magnificent gate before them. It was different seeing it up close like this. Normally her and her family arrived via her father's chariot.

"Do it on him." He indicated towards a tall figure who was guarding a smaller, but much more elaborate, section of the gate. "It'll be fun." Phobos grinned. Though he was only using her to get his way, he did also genuinely believe it would be fun. For them at least.

The young goddess nodded once more. Being able to showcase her powers was something she took pride in, though her mother oftentimes warned her never to do things out of such a sin. It was her domain, and she was good at it. "I'm going to have to get closer," she uttered under her breath, as if the guard were to hear them from their hiding spot. She didn't wait for a response before she was skirting around the pillar and climbing down the rocks towards the man standing tall and proud.

"Excuse me, I t-think I'm lost…" a waiver to her voice made the theatrics of it all that much more believable. He was stoic in his position but his flickered down to her frame, and she saw the flicker of his eyes darting around to see if there was anyone to claim this child. When he found no one, he sighed heavily and bent down on one knee, placing a hand lightly atop her shoulder. "There, there little one—" his words cut short, a soft light glowing around the corner of Melinoë's eyes would have informed others of her powers at work.

A dash of madness spread through the grown male, easily falling to his knees and holding his head in both hands. It was then that the daughter of the dead beckoned Phobos to join her as she raced past the guard in the dirt.

Fear eyed the man as he skirted past. He was just about able to hear the strange mutterings that escaped his lips and though it was disturbing, he could not help but be impressed. To him it was more intriguing than being able to throw lightning bolts or communicate with animals. It was dark, like his own domain, and strangely…familiar. Not that he would ever tell her any of this.

Following behind the goddess, the two quickly reached the portal, not wanting to give other servants time to spot the man's strange behaviour. He had no idea where the portal would take them but that was all part of the allure. "Boys first." He stuck his tongue out at her before hopping through. It was instantaneous, the transition, and one that most gods didn't think twice about.

She just rolled her eyes, a determined look on her face as she jumped after him.

Pausing as he quickly found himself in the mortal realm, Phobos brushed off his tunic before turning to look at the meadow around them, pollen stirred up by the breeze smelling all too sweet. It was strange to be surrounded by so much life and he found himself frowning at the unfamiliar sight. Luckily he could also see the great city of Corinth in walking distance, which would provide far more opportunities for escape than a field. Carts and lone travellers wandered down the dirt road by the meadow, blowing up dust in the dry midday heat, none of them paying much attention to the lone children.

"Bet you can't keep up." He taunted his not friend, offering a sly smile before suddenly taking off through the tall mountain lilies.

It was their first unofficial game with one another. A bet of who could win at a foot race. With his long legs there was no doubt he would win. At least that's what she believed he thought. But she was lighter, smaller, quick on her feet and Melinoë ran as fast as she could. The gentle breeze blowing by, whipping the fabric of her dress around her legs, hair billowing behind her. It was one of the first times she had felt free. Uncaged.

The walls of the city were long since past, stalls on either side of her, erect and filled with baubles and trinkets. Crowded streets of merchants and customers alike all shouting at her to watch where she was going and to slow down. Melinoë couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh, continuing towards the center of the market. So caught up in the moment, young madness completely forgot where it was she was going and when she stopped to turn and look she couldn't find Phobos anywhere. The midday bustle of the city was in full swing and a large number of people were milling about. It would be near impossible to find him.

A sort of panic rose within her. _{'It's what you wanted… to be alone,'} the little voice inside her purred. Not anymore, she spit back. They were having fun, at least she thought they were. _{'He never wanted to play with you. He's glad you're lost…'} the voice fired back and as she stood there utterly alone, her name nowhere to be heard she believed it. Melinoë fought back tears and rubbed furiously at her face, sitting in the shade of a trinket stall.

The owner of the stall looked down at Melinoë, an unsettling smile decorating his already ugly features. The market was not a safe place for any sort of children and many mortals were simply too stupid to see when a deity was staring them in the face. Or too full of hubris to care.

"What's a pretty young girl like you doi-"

Before he could finish his sentence the merchant was abruptly pushed from the side, trinkets clattering to the ground as he stumbled into his stall, wood creaking under his excessive weight. Phobos stood in place, glaring at him, the strength of the god surprising given his apparently scrawny form. The man righted himself, having managed not to fall, but was stopped in his tracks when he tried to open his mouth to speak once more.

"You're ugly. And stupid. And I didn't say you could talk." Irritation flashed across his face for a moment but Phobos abruptly covered this up with a mask of indifference. "Now go away." He growled, trying and sort of managing to direct the waves of fear that seeped from him in the merchant's direction. The man lingered for a few seconds but eventually backed away, his face paling as the god continued to stare him down.

"Are you such a sore loser that you-" Phobos began as he approached Mels sitting form, his words falling away when he saw that she was crying. He looked around as if his mother would suddenly appear to help but she did not. Realising he couldn't just leave her like this, despite his earlier objections, he crouched down in front of her, forearms resting atop his legs. A curl of dark brown hair fell atop his forehead as he moved and he attempted to blow it away in a huff of annoyance.

"You didn't actually think I was going to leave did you?"

Looking up through tearfilled lashes she leapt into him, throwing her arms around him, tightening her hold on him. Muttering a soft, Don't leave me," and staining his tunic with silent tears.

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Melinoë looked at him from her spot to his left, an incredulous look on her face, a melodic laugh falling from her lips as she leaned into his side once more, "That's definitely not how I remember that day. You absolutely couldn't stand to have to play with me." The memories of them fading in and out of her mind, how they spent an absorbent amount of time with one another while they were growing up. How it wasn't nearly as distant… or as close as they were now. It was such a different time then. The only worries to cross their minds were if they were going to somehow be caught and chastised for torturing mortals and gods alike.

Phobos rolled his eyes, letting out a low laugh of his own. You're right, there was definitely more crying and proclamations of how thankful you were." He nudged her playfully with his shoulder, a hand moving to absentmindedly move a piece of hair that had strayed from its place behind her ear. It was hard not to, when it had so rudely been hiding her face from him.

Realising what he was doing, he quickly pulled away, edging a few inches across the bed. "And I didn't appreciate being forced to do anything back then. Though you did turn out to be slightly less annoying than I first assumed..." Phobos admitted what was more accurately only a half truth. In fact, it hadn't taken long before he'd begun to anticipate her company...even look forwards to it.

Mel didn’t take notice of why he moved, only that he did and she rectified that by only scooting closer, "Pfft, you enjoyed the hugging and praise too much to remember it correctly," she joked, the woes of earlier slowly dissipating but never truly leaving. "I'll even confess that I actually enjoyed spending time on Olympus with you. Even if you did try to ditch me every chance you could." The look in her eyes was challenging but playful and she smiled at him then, pulling the stray hair back behind her ear in order to get a good look at him. A slight blush dusting her cheeks at the memory she was soon to bring up.

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Years had passed and once again the daughter of Hades found herself waltzing around the grounds outside of the main agora of Corinth; a place amongst the mortal realm that quickly became theirs. It was a droll day so far, Phobos having been away with his sister, serving in another battle with Ares. Her own siblings, Zeus knows where.

So, she walked around the grounds, taking in the sights of those bustling around, smelling the flowers in bloom thanks to her mother’s love, perusing the stalls and the items sold there. A group of young men, swaddled in the finest of cloth, necks and wrists adorned with jewelry that would make even the most successful merchant in Corinth seethe with envy, spotted her and made their way to where she stood.

The looks upon their faces screamed out to her that they meant no good, but she stood her ground and ran her tongue over her teeth, ignoring their presence and keeping her attention on the baskets of fruit before her. They liked the sounds of their own voices, that much was evident by the way they refused to leave her side for the next few stops. Melinoë only rolled her eyes and continued on her way. Not a soul stopping to intervene.
We’re talking to you, Skýla.”

Don’t you know who we are…”

”Clearly not, we should show her…”

They proceeded to grab her arm and drag her away from the main street, back between two buildings, shielded from the eyes of those passing by. The one who held her was the first to receive madness; taking root in his soul and dragging him to the ground as if he were being pulled there by an unseen force. His cries and screams didn’t deter the others as they set upon her, yanking her this way and that. “Phobos,” his name fell from her lips in a whisper though she knew he would hear.

Her purr was like a siren call. It pulled fear from his place on the battlefield, whether he was willing or not, taking him to her side. It would've been more surprising for the god if it had not happened before and his jaw clenched in annoyance as he stood there, covered from head to toe in deep red blood. He let go of the sword he had been holding - though it wasn't his and he couldn't exactly recall whom he had gotten it from - letting it clatter noisily to the ground.

"What's going on here?" Yawning, Phobos stretched his arms lethargically above his head, his muscles aching and weary. The battle had been long and full of fury, particularly because Deimos had been ignoring their father and making everyone utterly petrified by dread. It was admittedly amusing to see the battlefield in chaos as men attempted to flee, only to be driven into their enemies arms.

His eyes lazily moved from the men to Mel, who looked far less panicked than one would expect for her situation. He stopped himself from admiring her full form, determined to maintain his indignation. Phobos hadn't bothered to dampen down his fear when he'd abruptly been transported here and it washed over the men like a powerful wave, their bodies freezing as panic and terror overcame them.

"Nice to see you again Melinoë. Did you really need to drag me into your little game?"

Her eyes lit up as soon as her gaze landed on the towering frame before her. Covered in blood and smelling like iron fresh from the forge of Hephaestus himself. With her head cocked to the side and eyes half lidded she shrugged, even in her position. Melinoë would have loved nothing more than to just stare at him for all eternity, if it meant he looked at her like that always.

"Just thought you would enjoy a break from duties~ besides, these toys came to me." the words flowed from her lips like water in a spring. Easy and without tremor. Though the same could not be said of the remaining men between the divine. It didn't take long, between the two of them, to easily dispatch fear and madness into the hearts and minds of the mortals, them running away terrified of what they felt and saw. The feeling Melinoë got from watching him work was electrifying, something she didn't often get the chance to do. Phobos was like an idol to her, though she would never say so out loud.

She dusted her chiffon off and made her way to stand by his side, watching them flee. "Since you're free from work I figured we could enjoy the rest of the day." She was coy with her words and actions, tugging at one of the belts around his waist, attempting to pull him with her. A smile on her lips told him he wouldn't be sorry if he agreed.

Phobos let himself be pulled along, his lips twitching as they pulled into a smirk.
"Fine but I need to wash first. I don't think the local mortals will appreciate me wandering around in such a state." He indicated to himself as he spoke. "I think there's a bath house not far from here..." He considered out loud as they returned to the main thoroughfare, ignoring the strange looks he was attracting.

"You do realize you might get yourself hurt one of these times." The god added as he surreptitiously grabbed an apple from a nearby market stall, his disapproval evident in his tone of voice. Biting into the fresh fruit, he stared down at her, one eyebrow raised.

She nodded along, aimlessly wandering the streets looking for the bathhouse he mentioned, only looking back at him to smile brightly, "How could I when I have you to come to my aid?" A true comment that slipped through with coy intentions.

The structure stood on the cornered crossroads, patrons filing in and out, pampered and cleaned and smelling of lilac and lavender. It was men's only and instead of getting caught in another scuffle with the locals Melinoë resigned herself to stand outside after having shoved Phobos towards the doors. "Get yourself clean, sir, your stench is sure to attract even the most foul of creatures," It was an easy joke, one that accompanied the smile she gave him. The light of the sun casting a ring around him and she remembered how lucky she was to have him so close to her. The dusting of rose on her cheeks was enough to avert her gaze and push on his frame once more, anything to keep him from spotting it and teasing her for it.

"Ah, that explains why you are by my side then." He called back with a smile before allowing himself to be drawn into the bath house. Phobos had barely entered when he was pull]d off to a private bathing room, the women who ran the place tutting under their breath and muttering about how he would pollute the communal waters. He sighed, preferring to be left alone but knowing that this was not going to happen. As he had grown older his fear seemed to inspire attention and servitude, and his protests had never helped. They made quick work of cleaning him up and by the time Phobos left the bath house there was not a spot of dirt marring his body and he had been reluctantly anointed in oil to soften his skin.

Strolling over to Melinoë, who he saw was attracting more attention than he figured she even realized, the son of war pushed his wet curls away from his face as he stopped beside her. "Well that was awful." He muttered moodily, keen to get away before they decided to pounce on him once more. "Please tell me you have something entertaining planned?"

As soon as she spotted the brute of a man she ran up to him, waving frantically, effectively dismissing the overlooked attention she had received. Melinoë took notice of the oil coating his skin, giving him a nice gleam in the midday sun; how his hair was pushed back with dark curls falling out of formation to frame his face. "Have you ever known me to be organized?" She held a hand to his lips, "Wait, don't answer that."

Dragging him once more, out of the city and into the field on the outskirts provided them with a lot more privacy as they began to make their trek back to Mount Olympus. It was a quick journey, one that they had made many times before and it was something they were almost used to at this point. Phobos more so than she. Upon reaching the fields of Elysium, with flowers in bloom and tall grass billowing in the winds brought on by the Gods she finally rounded on him. Their conversation had dwindled somewhat as she thought of how to ask for his assistance.

“I want you to teach me to fight.” The seriousness in her face betrayed only in the wavering way her words fell from her lips. It was something she had been meaning to ask help on for quite some time now. Who better than Fear? Her mother would have thought it to be useless, she didn’t do anything dangerous that would require her to learn such a trait. Though, with the instances like earlier it was only fitting. Phobos' words rang through her head on repeat, _{‘What if he wasn’t there to rescue? To save…’} It wasn’t something she was willing to dwell on. Mel was willing to beg him if the need arose, but she knew that stroking his ego would bode much fairer results.

Melinoë huffed with the exhaustion that came from following Fear's instructions to the letter, with only a few minor stops at teasing the other. It only resulted in harsher critics. He had pinned her to soft grass below them, the blades tickling her exposed skin, the cool greenery felt heavenly against her heated back. Raising a knee, on the inside of his thigh she was able to see something other than seriousness flash across his face, which opened him up to be flipped over and experience the ground for himself. A smug smirk fixated on her features as she straddled his waist. Leaning into his chest she crossed her arms and stared down at him, "I do believe that I have surpassed the master, hmm?"

The god of fear rolled his eyes from his position on the ground, the gentle breeze a relief after their exertions. "I wouldn't exactly say that." He responded pointedly, unwilling to admit that her progress had been impressive, and that he maybe wasn't all that unhappy with the position she had put herself in. It was unusual that they were ever this alone and he felt in no rush to end it.

"But I do remember telling you never to leave yourself exposed." He added calmly. Before she could respond a large hand had shot up, skilled fingers wrapping around her neck, though not in a manner that would actually hurt her. "I could've maimed you in several different ways by now. Shall I list them?" Phobos raised an eyebrow, making no move to alter their position. He still ached from the long hours on the battlefield but at this point, such feelings were almost a constant companion.

Surprise was replaced almost instantly with a feeling she wasn't quite sure of. A pleasant sensation, one she thoroughly enjoyed, coupled with the pressure his hand provided and the warmth it left in its wake. Licking her lips she leaned back, refusing to break eye contact as she did, a smirk dancing across her features - even if it was a bit crooked, "Please do~ and while you are at it, keep the pressure."

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"I was right you know." Phobos reiterated the centuries old point. Being on the defensive was often viewed as a negative but he had learnt that it drastically reduced one's chances of getting hurt. "You were a quick learner though, most don't follow instructions so well." He conceded, smiling at her softly. "It was...unfortunate that we didn't get more opportunities to practice." This time he didn't lean away from her touch, instead appreciating the closeness that they so rarely shared these days. It was so little, that feeling where their shoulders, hips, thighs met, but it was enough for a god who knew not to expect more.

"Anyway, you were still a total brat for calling me away from the battlefield like that. My father nearly sent the Erinyes after me." He shook his head at the ridiculous thought. Demanding perfection had always been Ares' way and it had only made Phobos more willing to deter away from the path set for him...Mel being one such distraction.

Was?" She teased, pressing closer into his side. The presence of his warmth, of him, the memories they shared of one another; those spoken, and those they agreed never to speak of again. Melinoë missed being so close and open and honest with him, it was comforting having him there and not someone else. A playful roll of her eyes had her laughing at the Erinyes comment, "I'm sure he's been called away from battle for fun and love before–."

It was a slip of the tongue. A product of being too comfortable, as they were then. The warmth surrounding her was softening her, making her lose all sense of lines and whether they should be crossed or not. The loss of her siblings was clouding her judgment - that's what it was. Otherwise she would never admit to feelings she herself wasn't entirely sure of. Couldn't place a name to them; rather speak the name aloud for fear of rejection. Her eyes wide as she sat there, body now tense with whether or not he heard and how his response would be.

The smile on the Greeks' face slipped away at her comment. "Love? I…don't know about that." He replied hastily. Phobos wasn't able to say whether he was speaking of himself or his father but her words struck at a chord within him that he was not ready, or able, to entertain. "I mean, we were barely even friends right?" He shook his head as if the motion would shift away the uncomfortable truth that dared to breach the walls he so carefully maintained.

It wasn't the response she had hoped for but Melinoë couldn't say she was surprised. So why did it hurt? "Yeah, right. Of course," she cleared her throat, throwing out a scoff and shrug of her shoulders. In what she thought was a slowed movement, she slipped from the edge of the bed and made her way to en suite, throwing a quick and short, "I'm going to wash up," over her shoulder. As if she needed to explain herself.

Once the door shut behind her, she pressed the palms of her hand against her face, rubbing the tears from her face before they had a chance to fall. This day had gone from one horrible experience to the next. The Fates enjoyed tormenting her from wherever they dwelled and it pissed her off. Those feelings of anger and hurt swelling back up. The trip down memory lane was great, but it was time to move on he clearly had. So why weren't the tears stopping? It wasn't the first time she had cried over Phobos and it wouldn't be the last.

"Fuck..." His jaw clenched as she shut the door, leaving him alone. Why had he said any of that? He wasn't even sure. Standing up, Phobos strode quietly over to en suite. Reaching towards the door handle, he considered going in. She wouldn't want it though. One of these days she's going to hate you forever. The thought was jarring to him, for a moment stealing him of his breath. Was it--no... He was simply exhausted, it had been a long, draining day. One that he was very much ready to put behind him.

He would leave. It was for the best.

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{Location: Around -> Acropolis
Interactions: The people who are at Acropolis, but she's mostly looking for Hercules @metanoia}

---

---

If I took you everywhere then well you wouldn’t know how to walk
If I spoke on your behalf then well you wouldn’t know how to talk
If I gave you everything and everything is what I bought
I can take it all back
I never cared ‘bout what you thought

The sun was shockingly bright and shockingly high by the time she opened her eyes. How long had she been out for her ‘nap?’ She thought about checking the time on her phone, and decided she didn’t care, instead reaching down into the sand beside the hammock she was laying in, flopping her hand around in the sand to try and find what she was looking for. Eventually, her hand found the ice chest she’d brought along when she’d set up her new beachside relaxation point and popped it open.

She pulled out an energy drink and sat up in a hammock in the same motion, a feat that to her was impressive - mostly because she was nursing a massive hangover from a bender the night before. There were two paths forward; one was the path of a good day, where she sipped the energy drink until the caffeine filled up her body, and the other was to chug the energy as fast as possible and deal with the inevitable consequences.

The only thing that stopped her from chugging every drop in the can was her music being unceremoniously shut off. She turned to look at the culprit, and saw a child standing above her bluetooth speaker. She squinted at the kid, and the kid spoke first.

“You look like shit.”

“What? You look like shit.” Benzaiten retorted, tipping the energy drink can to her lips and slamming what was left of it down her throat before she stood up from the hammock and looked down at the child. It was almost as if Benzaiten was daring her to say something.

The kid threw up her arms, “I’m twelve!” She protested, and Benzaiten appeared deep in thought for a few moments before she conceded and nodded.

“Alright fine, kid. You got me. Whaddaya want?” She demanded, and the kid frowned. How did she not already know what she wanted? Wasn’t she supposed to be smart? She watched as the older woman looked around for something, and then threw her empty can into the ice chest. “I can’t believe there’s not a trash can out here.”

“Mom said if I came out here and woke you up, you’d have a job for me.” The kid explained, and Benzaiten raised an eyebrow. What the fuck did people think she was doing out here? Growing jobs for children on her job tree?

“I don’t have —”

“She also said that if you said you didn’t have a job to tell you that you can’t just sleep in our backyard like a lazy bum and surf and be a degenerate for free.”

Benzaiten squinted. The kid’s mom had a point, but she didn’t want to babysit all day! She had plans. She had to get stoned, and then show up at Acropolis to get stoned with the boys and see if she could crash there for a few days. She needed a break from this lot. “Alright, Kimi. Fine. Your mom has a point.” She conceded, heading toward the driveway of the beachhouse, “You want a job? Fine, fine. I’ll get you a job.” She said, as she approached her vehicle. She climbed inside and gestured for Kimi to follow. “Remember. No refunds.”

Say it ain't so, I will not go
Turn the lights off, carry me home
Keep your head still, I'll be your thrill
The night will go on, my little windmill

Over the course of the day, Kimi realized that ‘no refunds’ was a joke. Benzaiten was giving the ice cream away. Stopping at different hotspots throughout Seattle, Kimi thought it was too cold for ice cream, but she had underestimated the people with bloodshot eyes at skateparks - who took the ice cream from her at a speed she hadn’t expected. All the while, Benzaiten sat in the front seat with her feet kicked up on the dash, while she listened to music.

Before long, the day was coming to a close and Benzaiten was parking the ice cream truck back in its place in the driveway. She looked over at Kimi and gave a triumphant smile. “There, how’s that? Helluva job, huh? Selling ice cream is hard work. Especially when it’s cold… I wanted to get a taco truck for winter, but it’s too much work.” Benz made a face, as if it were an impossible task to fill out the paperwork necessary to get a food truck. “Anyway, let’s rock and roll. I gotta go see some friends.”

Mucho gusto me llamo Bradley
I'm hornier than Ron Jeremy
And if you wanna get popped in your knee
Just wipe that look off your bati face
You hate me 'cause I got what you need

She watched Kimi hop out of the car and decided it was a job well done for her, then moved to get out herself. What she found when she opened the door, though, was a young girl holding out her hand. “What, are you serious?! We had a great day today! We bonded.” Kimi did not budge. Benzaiten sighed, and reached into her jeans’ back pocket to pull out her wallet, and grabbed two 20s and dropped them in Kimi’s hand.

“Yay! Thank you, grandma! Are you going to see the Greeks!? At, uh, uh, Acropolis? You should introduce me to Hercules sometime, I love the 12 Labors —”

“HEY! Not so loud, girl, we’re supposed to keep the whole god thing on the downlow… y’know? Artemis will come in here and kidnap you as punishment for me having a kid a few generations ago.”

“His YouTube channel is named Hercules too, grandma.”

“Oh.” Benzaiten did not watch her buddy’s YouTube channel. “Well, you can’t meet him anyway! He’d be a bad influence. Now get outta, and tell your mom I said not to wake me up again. Geeze, isn’t respect for your elders supposed to be a big thing in our culture?” Benzaiten watched as her granddaughter ran off back to the house, and then she jumped back into the truck.

She headed to the rear to grab her backpack and unzipped it, making sure the brick of weed she’d stashed away was still there, then slung it over her shoulder. Of course, she wasn’t foolish enough to bring an empty ice cream truck to the godlike frat house, that was just going to end in disaster. She hopped out of the truck and instead got on her bicycle. What better way to travel through Seattle in the cooler months? Bicycles were the way of the environmentally friendly person — disregard how she’d spent most of a day driving herself and her granddaughter around in an ice cream truck.

Shit! I missed the festival! At least I’m not Greek… Hera probably won’t care. Benzaiten silently thanked the fact that Hera wasn’t quite as demanding of other pantheons, and pedaled on. She had her headphones loosely wrapped around her neck, and more music accompanied her journey through the streets of Seattle.

Seattle was an unfortunately hilly city, but Benzaiten only regretted her choice on the way up on the way down. It was kind of fun to lift her legs off the pedals and enjoy the feeling of coasting down the hills. The wind rustled her hair around her shoulders as she went up and down the hills, bobbing her head up and down to the various songs she listened to while traveling.

Eventually, she slid her bike to a stop in front of Acropolis, and bounded inside without a care in the world, abandoning the bike in front of the entryway. As she stepped into the building, she bellowed, “HERC! WHERE YOU AT? I GOT WEED!” It was practically a mating call, coupled with music blasting from the headphones still wrapped around her neck.

Come my lady
Come-come my lady
You're my butterfly, sugar baby
Come my lady
Come-come my lady
You're my butterfly, sugar baby

[AlteredTundra]

𝕖 𝕩 𝕡 𝕖 𝕔 𝕥 𝕒 𝕥 𝕚 𝕠 𝕟 𝕧 𝕤 𝕣 𝕖 𝕒 𝕝 𝕚 𝕥 𝕪

_{location: Thor’s Apartment
interactions: Thor @metanoia & Sif @Danvers
mentions: Odin || Heimdall || Tyr}

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When Thor made it back from Persephone and Hades’ house, he reflected on the conversation he had with Persephone and what she advised him to do. The topic of family and not leaving unsaid words as just that was one that made him consider a lot. It made him think about his brothers, about Baldr and Vali, about Heimdall. All of them that may or may not have been Odin’s preferred sons. His relationship with them was strained (to put it politely).

And that wasn’t even factoring in how he felt about Odin himself. The almighty Alfather, the person that always thought of himself above everyone. If you weren’t for him, then you were essentially against him. Yeah, that’s what Thor came to know as his normal for so long.

But then the events at the Olympic Club happened. Those two greeks were dead. Anything they left unsaid would remain that way, because somebody took that choice away from them. No final goodbyes. No one last get together before they faded into Helheim (or whatever it was the Greeks believed). Nothing but crashing down from the skylight and their skulls crashing against the ground.

It was dishonorable, really. Not on them but on their killer or killers. Whoever did it held no respect for them. An honorable death would have saved everyone the grief of seeing them fall like that.

As the God of Thunder pulled in front of his dojo, he contemplated whether or not he was going to open shop. He was livid. Anger consumed him as he lamented more and more about everything today. Persephone’s words, her children the fury that he felt that he knew needed to be dealt with in only the way Thor knew how.

But he wasn’t sure what he should do. Open up shop and help someone or go upstairs, sleep for a few hours, and then, when night takes hold of Seattle, hunt those who hurt the innocents of Belltown.

Conflicted beyond any means of clarity Thor angrily exited his truck, slamming it as he walked past his dojo and made his way upstairs. He was in no place to teach anyone. It’s not like any of his students were going to be around today anyway. They were made aware that they had today off. All classes were canceled because of the festival, but with that now being called off, there was nothing for Thor to do but relax as much as he could (that was what Sekhmet told him to do in a manner of speaking).

He pulled his keys out of his pocket but realized something when he went to turn it.

“It’s unlocked?” Thor narrowed his eyes. He was too exhausted to take on a foe, but a mere mortal breaking into his apartment? That was, if nothing else, something he could handle.

In a swift moment, the door blasted open as the God of Thunder rushed in. the light had been turned on, Thor’s eyes were red with an anger he had dwelling deep inside him and when he saw someone, he didn’t really see them. He acted instinctively and pressed his toned forearm against their collarbone, rushing them to the ground in a simultaneous moment. He sat on top of them, legs locking theirs in, pressing his forearm against their neck only hard enough to keep them in place. “You sure have a lot of nerve--” Anger quickly subsided as he saw who was under him. That blonde hair, those eyes, the expression that he remembered so fondly. “--Sif? Is…is that really you?”

"Ow..." Sif groaned after a moment of shocked silence, suspecting she was going to have more than a few bruises in the morning. Her hands moved to grip onto his powerful forearm, trying and failing to push him away. It was impossible though, he was a deity of strength and power and she, well...her hair was a Fífl.

"Is this how you greet people nowadays?" She grumbled as she gave up, flopping back onto the hard floor. It did occur to her that maybe waiting in his apartment was not as socially acceptable as she'd first assumed. But when she'd told the superintendent of the building that she was Johans wife - mortal names were kind of weird - he'd had no qualms in showing her where the god of thunder kept his spare key.

Soft green eyes roamed over his form as she waited for him to move. It was like Týr, he looked the same but also different. She could sense that he was not okay, though whether it was because of her or something else, she wasn't quite sure. Lying there, Sif became acutely aware of their rather unbecoming position, which once would have been happily welcomed by the goddess. Now though...now she just wanted to be able to move her legs again.

"You're heavy..." She added quietly, trying to hide her embarrassment as her hair flashed crimson red.

He realized this a moment too late. “Oh..Sorry..” Sif laid under him, his forearm practically almost choking her and likely not in a way that was preferred (at least in thor’s recent experience generally speaking), he removed it from her collarbone and stood up, removing one leg off her body at a time. As he stood up, he grabbed her hand to help her up. It was still daunting that she was here. After all this time, Sif, his beloved wife, was here.

Looking at her, he couldn’t help but wonder where she was for so many centuries. A thought had come to him but he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions -- not yet, at least. “I..” He swore he would never say this, but Thor felt it was appropriate. “By Odin’s Beard, I can’t believe you’re actually here.” In a moment that had him consumed by emotion, rage no longer dominant but rather a cure to a heartbreak that was multiple centuries old, Thor took his wife(?) into an embrace. “I don’t know how but you’re here.” His voice cracked as he once again had her in a tight hold, possibly nearly crushing her fragile bones with his big arms.

Sif froze in place, taken aback by the outburst of emotion from a man who she had previously known to be much more composed. Not that she judged him for it. She had already cried at least three times since awakening. Eventually she rested her head against his chest, though she felt more awkward than comforted by their closeness. Hands warily moved to halfheartedly grip onto his shirt, which smelt weird and not at all like the one she had worn only half a day before.

"I-I flew in the sky." She announced ridiculously, "Well I mean, I woke up first. Then Týr found me and I got on a plane..." Sif mumbled her lacklustre explanation, probably providing more confusion for the god than anything else. "It was far out!" She said with a small smile, pleased at her attempt to use 'modern' english. Sif had in fact watched Good Morning, Vietnam on the flight over and had entirely failed to comprehend it being set almost 60 years in the past. It had been enough to realise that the tiny people weren't actually stuck behind the screen.

“Far out?” Thor couldn’t help himself as he laughed. Laughed so bad that it was almost like a croak due to the fact that he was high on emotions. Going from ire to yearning to whatever he was experiencing now, it was all just so much. He could feel himself breakdown at any given moment, yet something he clung to outside of physically clinging to Sif was what she mentioned about waking up. As he released her from the hug and looked at his wife, he blinked at her. “Did…you say you just woke up?” There was a part of him that almost felt relieved. He spent so long searching for her and she was still in those chambers the entire time.

"Why are you laughing?" Sif frowned, her bottom lip forming a small pout. Folding her arms across her chest she took a step back, strangely feeling a small amount of relief now that there was physical space between them. Had things changed whilst she was in the chamber? Or had it been even before the fall? Ignoring these doubts she nodded slowly at his question. "I woke up in Denmark. I guess most other people awoke years ago but I've been sleeping since the fall..." Her hands ran comfortingly up and down her arms as she dared to approach the one thought that had been stuck in her head. There was no point hiding from the fact that he had lived so many centuries without her.

"So...you've been around this whole time?" She asked simply, watching for his response.

In the midst of Thor’s own emotional roller coaster that carried him from joy and anger to some form of sadness and hope that he couldn’t explain, it took the God of Thunder a few extra moments (albeit accelerated by the pout on Sif’s face) to process exactly what she said. The years he spent searching for her, those decades upon decades of never giving up until the renaissance era, she wasn’t elsewhere trying to find her life nor was she just hiding in plain sight like he thought she had been. No, she was asleep. Asleep in Denmark. That in itself had forced Thor to take a step back (in a manner of speaking) because so many thoughts went through his head.

“Y-yeah..” He muttered slowly to her question. Shaking his head briefly, he took in a deep and slow breath, inhaling and exhaling. “A lot of us have been. And I looked for you, Sif. I spent centuries trying to find you. I figured, all of the time I spent, you were just, you know, either not wanting to be found or hiding where I didn’t look.” It was funny in a way. Thor searched high and low for her and she was sleeping in fucking Denmark, of all places. How in Helheim did he never consider that?

"You did?" Sif paused before taking a seat on the very edge of the couch, not willing to make herself too comfortable. "I wish I'd just been hiding. Sleeping wasn't all that fun." The memories of the nightmares were blurry and clipped at best, but she still had an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about them. "Thank you though...for looking. What--what happened after you stopped?" She didn't want to know but part of her just needed him to say it outloud because this feeling of being in limbo was awful. She thought of everything she had wanted to say to him before the fall but now it just seemed...pointless. Everyone else had been given two thousand years to change and she, well she was just the same as before. It was endlessly frustrating.

There was a lot of weight in the question she asked and it was weight that Thor didn’t know how to drop (so to speak). It was true he spent all those years aimlessly searching for her. Trying to find someone who left no breadcrumbs or strands of hair for him to follow was a lot more difficult than it might sound like. He remembered going aimlessly around the lands, fighting his way through armies, trekking paths that a god without divinity shouldn’t. It was strenuous on his body and at times, he had to find some level of comfort in the company of others, but Thor never stopped.

Until he did.

And Sif was asking for what came after.

He leaned against the counter, his back to it and arms crossed over his chest as his sapphire eyes had looked over to Sif. “You have to understand something first. It was five centuries. Five hundred years I spent looking. Tirelessly and aimlessly, I went to places, fought people trying to get from point a to point b, hoping for some shred of a trail that you may have left behind. But…” He fell silent as his head did the same. He gritted his teeth and his grip on the countertop was so tight that sparks centered into his fingertips caused parts of the fake marble to break off. As the broken pieces fell to the ground, Thor just continued, “...But there was nothing, Sif. No trail of you. Nothing to go off of. And after five hundred years of nothing, I was tired. I was broken and tired. I thought you were dead or you simply didn’t want to be found. So what was I supposed to do?”

Thor couldn’t hide the wave of emotions that came to the surface. He wasn’t a crying God but his eyes were puffy, evidence of his high emotions. “I had to force myself to move on. I couldn’t handle it anymore. The pain your absence brought was unbearable.”

Sif stared at the pieces of countertop that had landed on the floor, unwilling to look him in the eye. Thors words were filled with pain but her own was too much to ease his. She had known, or at least suspected such. Týr had been so unwilling to speak of his brother and there had been a hesitation that she had not dared breach. The goddess felt her hair grow longer, as if its locks could protect her from the hurt she was feeling, but she brushed it away and over her shoulders. She did not want to hide this time.

"I..." She paused. "Did you never consider that I was still asleep? I've heard I am not the first..." Sif muttered, her words barely audible. She knew it was unreasonable to expect him to wait so long, but the thought that he, no...everyone, had forgotten about her dug into her heart like a thousand shards of glass. The part of her that had wanted to lash out all those centuries ago, to free herself from the monotony of her life, started to well up inside of her once more. It called out to her and she felt so unwilling to deny it again.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised..." Sif heard herself talking but she felt so disconnected from her body, and was unable to stop the bitter words as they came pouring out. "I was never really worth anything but as your wife." Shut up Sif. "It makes sense that I could so easily be forgotten." You don't mean that. "I'm sure it must have been a relief when you didn't have to watch out for me anymore." No, that's not true...

What was she even saying? Easily forgotten?

Thor looked at Sif, listened as she spoke these ludicrous things but couldn’t find the courage to disprove them instantaneously. It wasn't that they were true - they weren’t true, but he was so paralyzed by…something (maybe that she was even speaking such things) and that just left a silence after she spoke. Never in the entirety of their time together had he known she felt these things. They were husband and wife and Thor never knew that Sif felt this way about their marriage. Blinded by his own emotions as he was, a genuine shock climbed onto his face and he forced himself to do…say anything.

But nothing came.

Damn it, why can’t I say anything?

Thor cursed himself repeatedly. And then cursed himself some more until a wave of defeat disguised as relief disguised even further as confusion consumed him and he finally spoke. “So…is that how you really feel? About us?” He asked flatly. His hand gripped the counter top, the same one that had crushed it a few moments ago. “I suppose I can't disprove your feelings. It was only 500 mortal years and without the benefit of replenishing my strength in Asgard. Perhaps I could have spent an additional five-hundred years searching even though I had searched everywhere I could think of. Maybe you were just that well hidden. Or maybe it was one of Loki’s tricks hiding you away from me.”

Thor let out a small laugh, that same defeated look on his face as he tried to grasp whatever he was feeling. He couldn’t hide it and Thor was seldom skillful at hiding his true emotions. Only exception was when the Blue Crusader went out at night. He could hide everything about him like a true stalker of the night. “Not like it matters now, does it, Sif? You’re free and instead of me, Týr found you. He did what I could not.” Despite how genuinely happy he was that she was here, an anger swelled up inside him when he thought of Týr being the one to find and bring her to Seattle, but he wasn’t entitled to such feelings. Thor knew that yet his wrath persisted.

Even with the flood of sadness and regret she was feeling, Sif still found herself blushing at the mention of Týrs name. Or more specifically, of hearing it come from Thors lips. Her hands went to her cheeks in an attempt to hide her body's reaction but it did little to ease the warmth spreading throughout her face.

"What does that even matter!?" She exclaimed, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of genuine wonder. "I would've been thankful if even Loki had found me!" Well...probably not, but that was beside the point. "Was it so important to you to be seen as my rescuer? My hero?" Sif stood as she spoke, hands running through her hair, unable to keep still. She shook her head, green eyes scanning over anything in the apartment aside from him. Any other time she would have been able to acknowledge the life he had put together for himself. To be glad that he seemed to be doing well. But now she could not, her gaze unable to focus on one thing long enough to truly pay attention.

As much as Thor wanted to say ‘no, you’re wrong. I don’t want to be your hero all the time’, the truth was he couldn’t. The God of Thunder, Mighty Thor couldn’t because that would be admitting to something that wasn’t factual. “Because it’s who I am!” He suddenly proclaimed, his voice rising to uncomfortable levels of loudness, aspects of his anger that boiled over the surface. “I’m Mighty Thor, Hero of Asgard, Savior of Midgard! It’s what I do: I save people. I’m a damn hero, Sif!” Thor stepped forward, his hands tightening as he slammed his fist down, again cackling with visible electricity, on the countertop, destroying it further.

Those were words Thor had often proclaimed as a motto of some sort. A personal mantra to get him through tough times. “But what kind of God am I? Really, I’m asking you. I spent so long trying to find you, trying to rescue you. Maybe it was because I needed to feel like a hero again. Maybe I needed a firm reminder that I was truly someone special again. Maybe I wanted that praise just one more time, but it wasn’t meant to be. Clearly it wasn’t, yet Týr just swoops you up like it’s nothing.” The anger became visible and Thor hated that he let it get to this point. What he hated even more, though, was that his own brother did this.

Sif couldn't help but cringe back at his fury. He had never directed his anger towards her before and for the first time, a small part of her was scared of him. She felt her hair flash white but she ignored it. "You never had to be a hero Thor. That's just what...what your father wanted." Her brow furrowed, refusing to let any of the tears that were welling up in her eyes spill over. "I just...I wanted you to be there with me. Not off fighting the Jötunn for the hundredth time. Did you even notice all those times I left Asgard?" She clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. It was painful but the pain was better than all of this.

"And Týr, he encouraged me to come see you..." Sif had never thought Thor jealous of his brother but his words said otherwise, spoke of things that maybe she had never been privy to. Or maybe she had just been too caught up in her own worries.

“Did he now? That’s interesting.” Thor couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle. He wasn't, but part of…whatever was happening right now felt funny to him - hilarious, even. Always playing second to his brothers. Heimdall as Odin’s faithful watchdog. And now with his own wife, Týr was replacing him. Maybe even seeming like a more ideal choice. Týr was her savior, not Thor. “What else did he encourage you to do?” Thor asked with a hint of spite in his voice.

"Nothing!" The goddess shook her head emphatically as she spoke, barely able to acknowledge that she had closed the gap between them. "Did...did you even hear anything I just said!?" She found herself pushing against his chest forcefully as she spoke, hurt and confusion overwhelming her. The tears that she had tried so hard to hold back began to spill over, falling down her cheeks in a way that she could not stop. "What do you want me to say? Tell me because I really don't know! Because I think your brother thankfully managed to find me when I had just awoken and was kind enough to help me out. That's it! Would you have preferred I stayed lost?"

No, I wouldn’t…

But Thor was beside himself with an unexplainable rage and jealousy. It was obviously something that Sif couldn’t even begin to understand, but the longer he spent deep in thought, trying to make sense that Týr was the one who found her, the more it appeared that she just didn’t want to be found by him. He understood what that seemed like. He understood that even thinking that made him look even worse. So why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? Týr finding her. Týr holding something over Thor’s head that will be as eternal as their life so long they consume the ambrosia.

It built up a storm inside him, causing his fist to crackle with sparks of blue lightning yet again. He tried to control it - manage it, but nothing was working. And to make matters worse, everything that happened forced tears out of Sif’s eyes, something he never thought he would be the cause of. Thor wanted to grab and hold her, try to console her but he didn’t have the right to. He wasn’t in any position to, so Thor, as gently as the God of Thunder was capable of, pushed her back and he himself took a step back.

As he gripped the hand that visibly shook with his other, trying to keep his rage and the static that was emitting from it, Thor tried to practice those deep breathing exercises he saw online that were supposed to help with anger. “There’s nothing you nor I could say, Sif. So perhaps it’s best if you left me alone.” The way Thor looked at her, whether she would catch it, was more of a desperate plea for her to leave. In the state he was in, nobody should see him like this.

Sif could only for a long moment stare at the god in front of her, frozen in place, heart thrumming rapidly. Partly out of fear but also sadness for seeing him in such a way. He was right though. What else could either of them say? She'd never seen him so out of control and her eyes flitted to his hand as the lightning crackled fiercely. Finally, she managed a small nod of her head, tears cooling against her skin.

Pulling up her hood, she approached the door, no longer having any chance of controlling her hair as it morphed wildly from one shade to the next. That was nothing though, compared to the deep ache within her chest. Thors own pain only confirmed to her that it would have been better for them all if she had remained asleep. Better for her to have slipped into the past as a distant memory. It's all your fault Sif. Barely awake for twenty four hours and she had managed to hurt the person who had once been closest to her.

"...I'm sorry." Sif said quietly as she slipped through the door. The words were so soft when they left her lips, it would be a surprise if Thor had managed to catch them.

[Akayaofthemoon]

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_{Luncheon➟ Home➟Underworld Home}

_{Mood: I’m fine (not really)}

---

---

_{Interactions: Hati, Hercules}

Frozen, like a deer in headlights, she tried to process the truth before her but everything in her being rejected it. The screams echoed on repeat or maybe the two women making those awful heartbreaking sounds weren’t stopping but either way she couldn’t move her eyes from the two on the floor. This wasn’t happening, right? Just some sick joke someone put them up to. They couldn’t be gone. Not either of them. They would get up any second! Pasithea felt like her world was tilting and closing in as she hugged herself tightly for comfort, trying to stop the ragged breathing she was experiencing as everything started to lose focus. She remembered when she had first entered the Underworld, filled with unhappiness and bound to a god she never wished to be with. It had been Persephone and her wonderful family that made her see the situation differently, see Hypnos differently, and to have a more harmonious life together. They were precious to her, almost as much as her own children.

She wasn’t proud of herself but she bolted, dashing out of the room with a hand over her mouth and tears she hadn’t known she was shedding were streaming down her cheeks. Knowing very well she would not make it to the bathroom, she went to the front and lost the contents of her stomach over the railing and used the same post of wood to keep herself up. The rain had already started, seeming to match her current mood and while usually it was a comfort, this just made her cry harder. ’I can’t help anyone this way…I need to calm down. Hati, Heimdall, Athena, Artemis….they can handle the investigation. Hades and Persephone have each other. Mel…, she didn’t have to think much about as she stood to the side, practically moving away from the group that was gathering Mel into Herc’s car. She wished she had gone with them but she silently watched, her voice not able to reach out as they eventually drove away.

Pasi found herself slowly walking to her car, not even caring about being soaked by the rain as she made her way. She didn’t know how long she sat there in the parking lot, soaking wet and crying as she leaned on her steering wheel feeling completely helpless. ’Why am I so useless? I can’t do anything to help them. What am I to do? I can’t investigate. I can’t get revenge. I can’t help them with emotional pain. I wish Coco or Aphro was here so I had someone to talk to….someone that I wouldn’t feel a bother to.’, she thought while weakly wiping her tears away and starting the car. It was a miracle that she had even made it home safely and staring around the empty apartment, the place suddenly was incredibly lonely instead of a cozy safe haven it usually was. The questions she presented herself kept ringing in her mind and she gained a slightly determined expression.

She fell back on something she was good at and started cooking. It wasn’t much but…she could help them in a mortal fashion. When someone was lost, others were just there for them and they would make sure that they had things that were just easy to eat or be supportive. It wasn’t much, she didn’t even know if it would help, but it had to be something…right? She was sure in the same position she wouldn’t want to cook or think about the little things so maybe this could express her open support. It really wasn’t enough but it was a start. Pasithea put hours of hard work in, cooking casseroles and other easily frozen and reheatable meals before packaging everything up and heading over to new leaf land where the underworld rulers had created their lovely home. Her own home wasn’t far, wanting to stay close to her second family and so when she arrived, she used her spare keys. Pasithea planned to just set everything in place and leave a quick note as she didn’t want to disturb the grieving couple or get in the way. She set to work, placing everything in the freezer and a few items in the fridge before quietly scanning the area.”Now, if I were paper and pen…where would I be that isn’t Hades' office?, she whispered to herself.

She quietly dug through some of the drawers in the kitchen, finding a notepad and a pen close to the fridge before quickly jotting down a brief message for the couple.



Pasithea placed it on the counter in plain view, getting ready to make her exit when her phone buzzed, panic causing her to quickly yank out her phone which in turn made her drop it. She cursed lightly, quickly gathering up the now cracked phone screen and saw a strange phone number popped up, one she didn’t recognize in the slightest. She debated answering for a moment before clicking ignore, figuring they would leave a message if it was important. It reminded her though that she had ditched the festival without checking with anyone or really checking on them which made her feel guilty. She bit her lip, sneaking the rest of the way out of the underworld rulers home and staring at her phone. Would it be a bother if she texted? Tlaz and Hathor had each other but she hadn’t checked on Hati but he was probably all in on solving the mystery. Heimdall might answer her but they weren’t as close and the other two ladies scared her to death. She decided to suck it up and if she was being a bother he would say so or ignore the message and if she embarrassed herself well, that was nothing new.

To: Hati
Sorry I left without saying goodbye…everything was overwhelming. Please keep me updated on the investigation if you can and please stay safe. I don’t want to lose anyone else.

Sent

’I don’t want to lose you.’, she thought to herself, knowing she wasn’t brave enough to put it in the message to replace the last bit. That being sent, she pulled up another convo on her phone and set to work on another message. She didn’t want to bother Mel directly so there were a few that should be near her that would be able to check in. If no one answered back, then she would know that a visit was the best way to go since she wasn’t going to let her feel alone.

To: Herc
Is Mel still at Acropolis? How is she holding up? Is there anything I can do to help out?

Sent

With that final message, she pocketed her slightly broken phone and hopped into her car to head home, ready to change direction if need be but mostly trying to keep a cool head and help others. If she didn’t relax and stay calm, help be a pillar of strength to others then what else could she do? She would feel like a burden otherwise so she would deal with her own tears later. She wouldn’t let herself break down and cry. She was fine. It would be fine.

[KZOMBI3]

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𝖙 𝖎 𝖉 𝖎 𝖓 𝖌 𝖘
𝖙 𝖎 𝖉 𝖎 𝖓 𝖌 𝖘

_{location: Odin's Penthouse
interactions: Odin | Týr
mentions: Váli@Hey Im Jordan | Thor@metanoia | Heimdall@sly13 | Sif@Danvers}

---

When the White Wolf took his leave, Odin sighed heavily in relief. He would never speak the words aloud that he was scared of the once pup now turned man. His fury and passion as great as his father's and even more disturbing is how similar to Loki he has grown into. It would do the Allfather no favors to tip him over the edge and be on the receiving end of powerful jaws fit to rip into the Moon. A shudder ran through him.

Odin was able to pour himself another drink before his phone chimed from the counter top it sat on. A text message from Váli came at the most... not inopportune times, but with the way things were going in Seattle, it would have been best his son was not in the city. Nevertheless, he typed out a quick reply mulling over whether or not he wanted to divulge information as sensitive as divine deaths over the phone. No telling who or what could be listening in.

To: hefnd
You have no idea. We should meet soon, do you need a place to stay while you're here? _sent

With another heavy sigh escaping him he took to sipping at the amber liquid swirling around in his glass, about to sit back down in his favorite leather seat. Time seemed to be moving at an immeasurable pace. One minute everything is moving too fast, while other times moving incredibly slow. Odin felt sluggish, and not because of the copious amounts of liquor he had ingested in a short span of time. It was in times like these that he wished to have guidance to lead him to an answer and not just the wills of a mortal shell; which most oftentimes was little to none. After being around for so long it's been hard for the Allfather to find a purpose among it all. He's tried many times to gain love and respect and just time with his sons. Váli has been a success, for the most part. Odin even likes to think that it was because of his help that his youngest was thriving in the woods with his commune and business staying afloat. Odin would be remiss to think that those kids he helps save and nurture turn into anything other than upstanding citizens to whatever society they return to.

His internal thoughts were brought back to the present as he spotted a swirling mass of black and grey smoke billowing up from under the front door, a clear line of sight from where he sat; once relaxed and now on edge. The shapeless mass never formed anything more than a shadowy silhouette, but it was enough to terrify the Allfather. With all the knowledge of the world, old and new, he knew what this was. A residual effect the draugr held over him. Possibly from when it attacked and grabbed at him, his right shoulder still throbbed from the slash he received hours ago. Would he have less pride than that of the head of a pantheon he might have gone to receive treatment for said injury. But this was Odin. He might have grown in some areas, but pride was not one of them.

The fluid creature stood there at the foot of his chair, almost staring at him with no face, waiting for him to do or say something. All knowing in it's silence. Odin would not give it the satisfaction, though he couldn't ignore it forever. Once again his glass was empty and he found himself almost side stepping the black mass to get to his home bar, his back to the thing - It wasn't really there to begin with... right - pouring himself a heavy handed drink.

...Faðir...

...Eineygð fífl...

...Blóðbróður...

Familiar voices floated and swirled around in the space around him, echoing inside his head, screaming out to him. The translucent creature still hovering about him reached out bony claws, intent on grabbing his shoulder, to get him to see to hear. But Odin did, there wasn't anything preventing him from seeing the lifeless forms of those he holds dear flash before his mind's eye, projecting it onto the floor of his abode. Thor, Heimdall, Týr, Loki, Miss Hebe... they were there before him cycling through one another as if part of a moving picture. It wasn't enough that his own guilt tormented him, now he was being plagued by a revenant as well... if he had been more lucid he might have even pieced the creature's appearance with a certain Helheim ruler. But alas, his mind was too preoccupied trying to hide away from the visions plaguing him, yelling out at the creature and swinging violently towards it. Hoping to land a blow, just one, and falling short every time.

So consumed with his own battle, Odin didn't hear the front door open. Didn't hear the footsteps hurrying towards him, definitely didn't recognize the face of the man behind him as he swung a blade around and held it to their throat. Odin hadn't even realized he had grabbed a weapon in his haze, though thankfully, Týr was conscious enough to block the affronting attack and disarm the Allfather in one fell swoop. "Faðir... you are not well," his voice was soft, but didn't hide any truths. Something Odin admired about his son and rival. No matter the situation, he could count of Týr to be level headed and righteous; even if his words weren't the most tactful.

It brought him back to the present, to a reality that, yes, Odin wasn't doing well. He hadn't been for awhile though he wouldn't let the others know of this. It wouldn't bode well for the Norse god. Nodding his head and dropping his arms he shuffled himself back to his chair, with the help of his son - whom he was thankful for, though would never admit to it aloud. Pride at it's finest. "Tell me, what brings you by?" A grunt was all the thanks Týr would receive, but it was an unspoken language between the two that told him that his father really was grateful.

Nodding himself Týr stepped back a bit and gestured to the package left by the front door, dropped there in a hurry once he had seen the state of duress his father was in upon his arrival. "I come bearing gifts. Thought it would be best for you to inspect it in person, although holding it in my hands it is definitely it." His lips curled into a pleasant smirk, reminiscent of a smile, one of joy; having found his domain weapon was something of a life long goal of his. Having it once more in his possession was like finding his missing piece and becoming whole once more.

Odin called for him to bring it to him to examine, and though the bringer of justice was a tad bit weary he obeyed. As the Allfather inspected the sheathed blade, a golden hilt that showed no signs of patina or rust or age - it was as if it had just come from the forge, Týr continued on with the report of his travels. "That blade wasn't the only thing recovered in Denmark," he started, examining his father's reaction, seeing if there was any knowledge of something else taking place overseas that Odin might have had a hand in orchestrating. When he only noticed Odin's wide eyed gaze, pure curiosity behind them, he knew that there was at least something the old man wasn't spilling. "Mmhm. Sif has returned to us. I had one of the drivers escort her to Thor's place, figured that they would want to see each other after so long."

"Or you wanted her to catch him in the act of being unfaithful to her," Odin quipped without removing his gaze from the intricate details of the sheath, though a smirk played on his lips. He would be sneaky in such a way. It was no secret how his oldest felt about his brother's wife - even back before the Fall. He had believed them to be a good match, but he was selfish and didn't need Týr distracted from his duties. Old Odin was a dick to his children, all in the hopes of staying on top and ruling over his kingdoms with an iron fist and unwavering loyalty. Let them hate so long as they fear; isn't that the Latin translation for what Odin stood for? "You aren't typically one for games, my son." There was a proud papa moment going on in his chest at his son's craftiness.

"I know not of what you speak..." His nonchalant facade broken out into wide grin, eyes twinkling with a type of mirth not familiarly spotted on the face of Justice. Týr knew what he was doing, of course he did. However, trying to convince Lady Sif of her husband's... deeds the last couple hundred years or so would be doing no one favors. Besides, it wasn't his place to tell on his siblings and meddle in the love affairs of those around him. No matter how much he would have liked to have been a fly on the wall of that conversation. There was a part of him, the part that wasn't on display for others to see, where he hoped that their union would come to an end, in which case he would bide his time; offering a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen; before it was him being on the receiving end of her love and affection. At least, ideally and in the world of fabricated love stories, that would be the case. For now, Týr would support them both, an outward appearance of the good brother. The upstanding one. The bringer of justice and truth. Though it seems that they have also forgotten that he was of war long before he was of peace.

Odin sat there, stroking his face as the ancient blade sat across his lap; drink off to the side, forgotten for the time being. It was odd, strange and coincidental even, that Sif was found after all this time. No other knowledge was kept of her location - where she had been all this time. Odin would have known. Although his son didn't want to see or speak with him, it wasn't difficult to know that Thor was on a long and arduous search for the blonde. His intel coming up with no results and therefore left him in a state that was less than pleasing to look upon. Say what anyone will about the Allfather, his heart broke for the loss of his daughter in law and for the heartbreak his son was going through. While Thor may or may not have halted his endeavors in searching, Odin did not, and even with his eyes and ears everywhere across this earth he too was unfruitful. So to have her show up after so long, on the coattails of divine death... it screamed of suspicion.

The silence that seemed to settle between them wasn't uncomfortable, but Týr knew that it wasn't like his old man - especially if it came to familial matters. And the fact that Odin sat there, almost as if he were lost in his own thoughts and given the state he found him in not long ago made the hairs along his body perk up, sensing something was indeed going on that he wasn't privy to. Not yet at least. Voicing his questions and concerns caused the older god to turn his icy gaze upon his oldest, "Divinity isn't something that we can lord over the mortals anymore... at least, not our immortality."

"Well, that was already known, given that we need to have the Tree and the ambrosia," Týr thought that that was fairly obvious given the first few years after the Fall when others began to age yearly as if they were mortal themselves. But it wasn't so much the words he spoke but the manner in which he spoke them, "What has happened since I've been gone?" It was then that Odin delved into the deaths at the luncheon, how the Festival was canceled until further notice. A killer was on the loose and they already had two godly deaths on their hands. A difficult and dangerous predator to catch. He mentioned how the White Wolf came and paid him a visit, warning him that dangers and threats were on the horizon; not only for Odin but for the Norse as a whole.

"You must tread carefully. We don't know what their goal is and if they were just shooting in the dark or if we were targeted specifically..."

Clapping a hand to Odin's shoulder Týr stood from his seat, "You worry too much, father. They forget who it was that wielded these ancient blades once before. We will just have to remind them." Odin shook his head, diverting his gaze to his lap, head in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. It was a strange sight to see, Odin looking so defeated... so old. As divine, it was assumed that they would just live on forever. But here, now, with the weight of the deaths and the tie in with their own, how the blame would be shifted to them - to him - it was a lot of anyone to bear. Man or God.

"I sincerely will that to be the case." Gripped the sheathed blade he held it up to his son for him to take, only for Týr to shake his head and wave it off like it was nothing.

"No, no. You hold on to it. I won't be heading to back to the office for a couple of days. Some unfinished business with my bed is needed," he replied, indicating his red eye flight and the exhaustion that was overwhelming him since coming in contact with Sif until now. It was a lot to be thrown in a short amount of time. Nothing Týr wasn't used to, just... he wasn't as young as he used to be. Odin could understand that. And he did, just nodding in agreement before placing the blade back in his lap.

Another firm clasp to the back was all that Týr had to administer before taking his leave, making sure to lock the door behind him. There wasn't anything else for him to do without incurring the unhinged and exhausted wrath of the Allfather. And he wasn't in the right headspace to deal with it himself. Another day perhaps. It was a short walk from the apartments to his parked car, the feel of the seats conforming to his frame was a welcoming experience. Before taking off he checked his phone, a pleasant ding emanating from his jacket pocket.

_{'This night just kept getting better and better,'} he thought to himself with a heavy sigh, as he put the car in drive and sped down the wet, slippery streets, cutting through the misty rains as if it were fog, in search of something, anything that wasn't divine related.

[Legion02]

---

SMOKEY REVELATIONS
SMOKEY REVELATIONS

_{Location: Random Seattle Bar
Interactions: Cliodhna
Mentions: Sekhmet, Tlaz, Hathor, Ares, Deimos}

---

Isa was hiding in some dark corner of a mediocre at best hole somewhere in the nightlife of Seattle. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the bar. She was scrolling quickly over her phone. The internet was an amazing source of information. In one search she learned more about her father than she had in the last decade. Pieces of the great puzzle began to fall in place. She also found Sekhmet. Her legend explained a lot. Of course, it also showed some potential weaknesses. As for her ‘relative’, there were far too many to be sure of any. Then there was her supposed ‘sister’? That didn’t really make much sense either. Most of his daughters took after their mother. They were kind. That psycho was just deranged.

A glass tapped her half-hidden table. She jolted up. Her right fist was hidden but ready to strike. With wide, dreading eyes she looked straight at the waiter putting down a pink, strawberry cocktail in front of her. Then he just walked away without a care. At least, he would’ve. Isabel took a quick sip from the drink and shook her hand. “More vodka. Way more vodka.” She said as she wiggled the glass. The waiter turned around, rolled his eyes, took the glass, and returned to the bar. Isabel returned to scrolling through her phone.

“You nearly knocked him out, didn’t you?”

Isabel looked up again. She had barely heard the one other chair on her table move. Was she getting this tired? A woman, a blonde, sat down at her table with a cheery smile. Clearly, she did not have the same shit day as Isabel. Or perhaps she was hiding it better. Why else would she be in a spilled-beer smelling hole like this at 3 am? Isabel didn’t particularly care. She just looked down again at her phone. People quickly took the hint generally.

“You’re Markov’s kid, aren’t you?”

“What do you know about my dad?” Isabel snapped the words in an instant. Anyone who knew him seemed to know more than she did. Why would she throw away an opportunity like this?

A faint smile crept over Clio’s lips. Words could so easily spin a spider’s trap for mortals these days. The more high-strung they were, the faster they’d run straight into them. “I met him, a few times.” She said as she absent-mindedly circled a finger over her half-full beer. “In the nineties… and the seventies… and earlier.” For a second she flashed a knowing smile at Isabel.

“You… know who he really is?” Isabel leaned forward. She still felt guarded. Who was this random stranger that approached her like this? A friend of her father's? Family? A sibling? Something else. She tried to look at her eyes, to see if they had a resemblance to the crazy girl in the hotel room. But it was far too dark for that.

“Do you?” Clio whispered back.

Isabel leaned back again, immediately realizing what she had walked into. She had seen – and sprung – her fair share of traps in a courtroom. This was exactly the kind of thing she’d use. Something to bait a victim into revealing their own information. Still, she couldn’t let the bait go completely. There was something here for sure.

“You really are his kid. He used to be as guarded as you are. Wouldn’t even let his own heart in. At least, until recently I heard.” Again Clio shot another smirk at Isabel as she produced a carton of cigs. She pulled one out for herself, then offered Isabel one. The raven-haired girl waved her hand. A small flame lit up the woman’s face up for a second. Isabel squinted just a little bit. She could swear she recognized her from somewhere.

“So which one are you?” Isabel asked brusquely as she leaned back in her chair. “Why are you here? Talking to me?”

The woman just smiled for a second, before taking another drag from her cigarette. The crappy music playing in the background didn’t help the tension. Most of Isabel’s encounters with the divine ended with her getting wounded. She should get some sort of weapon to defend herself. It was clear that the gods were vengeful bastards. Perhaps this woman was one as well, just with a different kind of sadism. She loved toying with people. That much was obvious. Isabel refused to be her puppet though.

“I need you to send your father a message.”

“We’re not speaking terms.” Isabel snapped quickly.

“Of course not.” The blonde scoffed as she exhaled the smoke. “But you’re his child. You’ll talk to him, sooner than you think too.”

The way she said it was so confident that Isabel had a hard time doubting it. “What’s in it for me?” She wasn’t about to do some random goddess any favors out of the good of her heart right now. If she was going to do something, she wanted something in return.

“Clever.” The blonde remarked as she leaned in closer. “What do you want to know?” She whispered with an almost seductive voice.

“Who’s Lali.” Isabel immediately asked.

“You want to know who you pissed off at the Jaguar?” The blonde gave Isabel a teasing yet dangerous smile.

She knew what happened. It had only transpired a few hours ago. Even though Isabel felt like she had gone through a tough week, she still knew that factually not that much time had passed. Yet somehow this woman knew what happened at the bar at the start of the night.

“Her full name is Tlazōlteōtl and I’ll save you a search as well. She’s the Aztec goddess of filth and sin.”

Isabel felt immediate frustration boiling her blood. This was the woman her father wanted to get together with!? A goddess of filth and sin? Someone who ruled over worms and excrement. She would never have it. It wouldn’t happen. Her father would be done with a woman like that so quickly.

“And now for my message.”

The raven-haired girl let out a sigh as she calmed herself down. Then just waved her hand to let the woman continue.

“Tell Ares that Clio hasn’t forgotten about the debt he owes her.” The blonde said with a vixen smile. “He’ll know what that means.” Then she got up and grabbed her glass. A half-burned cigarette lay in the ashtray. The embers were still burning. A thin strand of smoke rose up. Her hand touched Isabel’s shoulder as she looked down at the girl. “It was nice seeing you again, Isabel.” With those words said she walked away.

Leaving Isabel alone, and questioning when the hell she had met the woman before.

[sly13]

Hades

Hades took one last look down the hall before shutting the doors to his office allowing for privacy between the 4 men. “I appreciate you all coming down here on such short notice.” Hades' tone shifted drastically from his more welcoming tone during his conversation with Thor, to a more cold and stern one. “We have a lot to discuss, but first there is a matter of importance that we have to address first.” As Hades finished his gaze landed on the youngest of the men.

“We gave him a basic run down for you sir, so he could process a bit of it on the way over.”

Hades nodded as he stepped towards the youngest man in the room “Normally I prefer to do this in better circumstances and allow for things to sink in slowly but given the current situation we don't have much choice. Regardless however you were nominated by your father to take his place and I'm sure you'll live up to every expectation, just like your dad did before you.” Hades stuck out his hand offering it to the young man as he continued. “But ultimately this is your choice to make, once you make a deal with me there is no going back.”

The young man took only a moment to process what was being said before he nodded “I'm ready to serve just like my father did.” He stated confidently before grabbing Hades hand shaking it sealing the deal.

Hades' eyes glowed red slightly as he smirked at the young man “Glad you made the right choice.” As soon as he had finished shaking his hand Hades made his way over to a large painting that depicted a beautiful countryside that hung on his office walls. Behind the painting was a fairly large safe door that once opened revealed a small stack of documents and a gold coin which he grabbed before returning everything as it was. “This is now the most important thing in your possession. You are to keep it on you at all times. It not only shows your rank but is also your free ticket.” as he spoke, Hades held up the coin so that it was easily visible. It was a small gold coin roughly the size of a 50 cent coin. What made the coin unique however was that on one side a simple skull was depicted while on the other side the image of a ferryman.

“Welcome to the club Johny, your father would be proud of you. Rest his soul.” The olderman had taken a step forward grabbing the boy by the shoulders. “You're in the big leagues now, just like me and Nero here.”

“Thanks Paulie. I've been looking forward to today.”

“Now then to the matter at hand.” Hades said from his now seated position behind his desk as the three men quickly snapped their attention to him. “As you know today was our annual little get together for the whole family along with some others like us. But things were cut short when.” Hades paused for a second doing his best to contain the swelling anger that was rising in him. “It was cut short by my son and daughter falling from the damn skylight. Dead. Fucking Dead!!” Hades yelled the last portion of his sentence as he slammed his fist into the desk denting it slightly. “I want whoever did this, and I want them alive.”

The oldest man of the three, Paulie, showed the same emotions as Hades did as he spoke “Don't you worry bout a thing boss. We’ll find the son of a bitch who thinks they can get away with it.”

“We got any leads yet?” Nero, the middle aged man added in, “I can't imagine someone wanting to hurt those two kids.”

“Well my gut feeling would be my whore of a brother and his snake of a wife. They tried once before and I won't put it past them trying again.” Hades paused for a moment to think about his statement, it was true that he still suspected his brother but something was telling him that Zeus wasn’t the cause of his problems this time. “For the time being we're going to play this by ear until we get more info. Nero put in a call to our friends at the station and see if they can help shed some light on what my niece finds out after today. Other than that, do whatever you have to find answers. I don't care how many skulls you have to crack or how much blood needs to flow so long as we find whoever did this.”
The three men nodded as they made their way for the door before Johnny was stopped by Hades once again. “And Johnny, you're a boss now. You speak with my authority and understand. Anyone questions that you put them inline. No time for fuck ups.”

Once Hades was the last one left and he was sure the three had fully left the premises he let out a breath of exhaustion he didn't know he was holding in. He let his hand hang in his hands for a few moments allowing his mind to drift off for just the slightest bit of peace until he was interrupted by the loud sound of the grandfather clock ticking away. Hades turned to stare at the clock for a minute almost in a daze as he watched the second hand rhythmically tick away with each passing second.

“Why do you haunt me so?”

[Hey Im Jordan]

𝓹 𝓪 𝓷 𝓲 𝓴 / 𝓴 𝓪𝓵 𝓶

_{location: Taiyo Kai Seattle Building Top Floor - Amaterasu’s Office
interactions: Amaterasu @Hey Im Jordan & Uzume @metanoia
mentions: Tsukiyomi || Hercules || Apollo}

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For Amaterasu, the day had already been so frustrating. First, she’d missed the gathering of the gods. Then, she’d gotten served the wrong kind of water. She’d wanted lemon water, and what had her employees provided her? Watermelon, for some reason. At least Uzume was finally here to discuss the matters at hand.

They were seated in the corner office of her Seattle office, overlooking the lovely city. Amaterasu absolutely preferred Tokyo, but it was undeniable that Seattle had a charm to it. Officially, they were here to meet and talk about a few key business decisions that were coming up. More importantly, this was when they got to gossip about the other deities. Where Amaterasu hadn’t attended the brunch, Uzu had. And Amaterasu wanted to hear everything she’d missed out on!

Unfortunately, Uzume seemed liked her mind was in the clouds. That wasn’t uncommon for her, Amaterasu’s Uzu-chan often had moments where she spaced out, but this was a bit different. Amaterasu sat her water on a coaster on her wooden desk - she wasn’t going to have any rings - then finally broke the longstanding silence. “Uzu-chan. Is there something on your mind…? You’re quiet today.”

As per the usual whenever she had her mind on something, Uzume had barely registered what her mistress said to her. She heard her heavenly voice and that radiant tone in which she always spoke whenever she was concerned for Uzume, but she wasn’t entirely present. Truth of the matter was Uzume was incredibly bummed. A ridiculous way to describe such a mood, but it couldn’t be helped. She was bummed out because of what happened earlier in the day and how her high was grounded and she was incredibly low low low.

“Sorry?” Perking up mentally, she looked towards her boss, best friend, and her whole universe as eyes of concern matched the tone that she vaguely recalled calling out to her. “I..no, it’s nothing really, Ama-sama.” That wasn’t exactly true and Uzume knew it. And if she knew it, then Amaterasu knew it too. Nothing that went through her mind, no matter how well-hidden, went past her mistress. “Okay, so it’s not actually not nothing. I went to the Luncheon. Or I wanted to.” She pursed her lips, looking at Amaterasu.

That was somewhat disappointing. “What stopped you?” Amaterasu paused, and ran her head through all the possible options for what could have both prevented Uzume from going to the luncheon (it was really a brunch, wasn’t it?) and could have thrown her so far off her game.

“It wasn’t a boy, was it?” She made a face at the thought, but trusted that Uzume wouldn’t be this shook up by a boy. Though her friend certainly had a flair for the dramatic, Amaterasu held onto the hope that she wouldn’t be so easily thrown off by love. It wasn’t like they were living in a romance manga.

“What? No! Why would you even think such a thing, Ama-sama!” Immediately, Uzume waved her hands emphatically and shook her head vigorously for extra emphasis. “It’s nothing like that at all. I mean there is someone that I--but no, it’s not that!” Uzume tried desperately to simmer down the level of momentary embarrassment she suddenly came under fire by (mostly due to Amaterasu’s implication that she didn’t go to the luncheon because of a crush). Truth was, she did have something of a crush but there was a completely valid reason.

Like telling a story through physical reenactment, Uzume moved in front of Amaterasu’s desk, making sure she had her mistress’ full attention. “So there I was, just getting out of my car, looking so cute -- like really cute! I wished you could have seen me. I picked out the most adorable sunflower dress! It would have stunned so many people.” She let herself get lost in the giddiness she was displaying, disappointment plastered all over her face because she didn’t get to show it off like she wanted to. “But yeah, okay so where was I?” She hummed for a few seconds and had an a-ha moment. “Right! So I was making my way downtown so to speak and I was stopped by…”

Uzume leaned closer, pausing for dramatic effects.

And then her head sank low.

Then it rose. “COPS! That’s right. But not just regular old cops. It wasn’t mortal cops, but our kind of cops. Every mortal and some gods were escorted out. I think by that wolf boy person. Uh…Fenrir? I think that’s his name.” She scratched her head, making confused noises as she tried to remember if she had that right. “Anyway, that’s why I couldn’t go. Something happened and it was canceled!” She dramatically sighed, now feeling just as bummed out as she was in the moment of realizing that it was canceled.

It was like a wave of relief washed over her when Uzume confirmed that it wasn’t a boy that was distracting her. The burst of embarrassment she seemed to feel at the idea didn’t exactly put Ama’s fears of Uzume running off with a boy to rest. Stumbling, stammering, and even waving her arms around… Amaterasu keyed in on how Uzume had said there was someone she was interested in, but she intended to let her tell her story before she jumped on that point like a tiger pouncing on its prey.

Amaterasu had no doubt that Uzume had in fact been super cute. She considered making a distasteful comment about Uzume wearing the sunflower dress if she went on a date with her special someone, but she chose to let it go. Distracting Uzume from her story would probably lead to her forgetting it entirely when she was in this kind of state.

Once she finally finished, Amaterasu lifted her glass of water and took a sip as she thought about what she’d just heard. Divine ‘cops,’ deities being escorted out. Fenrir? No, that likely wasn’t right, it must have been Hati; but it was tough to be sure with Uzume when it came to names, but Amaterasu knew Fenrir was a troublemaker, and the one of the wolves who was useful was Hati… or maybe she was misremembering? She’d have to call Odin and ask him which was which.

“That’s… troubling, to say the least. I’ll have to make some calls and see if I can get the details if you don’t have them. Wait, if it was canceled, have you gotten your divine fruit? I don’t want you growing old on me.” Of course, Amaterasu had yet to eat hers either, but Amaterasu felt she was a lot less likely to forget it than the airheaded Uzume was.

“Fruit?” Uzume blinked cluelessly at Amaterasu. And she continued to do so for several moments, which caused all movements with her arms and legs, the usually vibrant expressions she had on her face were frozen in the sands of time. What Ama asked her hadn’t clicked until it did and she started to panic. “Oh my us! I didn’t!” As she started to pace back and forth frantically, she muttered inaudible words, thoughts racing through her mind over and over again. “It’s going to be okay, right? Right? I mean one year won’t make that much of a difference, right?” She asked Amaterasu while still pacing in the way she was.

“Uzu-chan,” Amaterasu said with a smile and a gentle chuckle as she shook her head. Amaterasu was amused by her reaction. Uzume seemed to be having a panic attack over something that she could handle with a simple text message. “I’ll just arrange to get the fruits from Persephone directly, there’s really nothing to be worried about, alright? Calm.” She spoke in a gentle voice, one she often used with Uzume to try and show her that everything was okay. “No reason to stress over something like that. And one year wouldn’t dim your shine a bit.”

Oh…

Like a flick of a switch, the panic that was previously on her face and in her movements had been turned off, replaced by a smile and Uzume’s normal mannerisms. She had hyperfixated on the fact that she never got the fruit and that she would have really aged a year that she never considered that they could be just delivered to her. In the height of her momentary panic, she forgot that was a thing. Now that she was thinking about it, they did send the fruits to gods (she assumed they did). “You’re the best, Ama-sama!” Uzume exclaimed, smiling cheerfully as her overall disposition matched it. “All calm now!”

“Thank you, I know.” She smiled again and nodded her head. Sometimes, Uzume would fly off the handle, and Amaterasu just had to make sure she pumped the brakes a bit. “Such a shame that you didn’t make it into the luncheon, I thought you’d have all kinds of gossip to spill. I like hearing about what the other gods are up to, but being involved with them…? Eh, I think you’re the one that’s better at that, Uzu-chan. Have you checked your social media? Maybe there’s a get together where you can be a fly on the wall for me. That way I can still hear about their drama.” As catty as it was, the drama of the other pantheons fueled Amaterasu. She had her own inter-pantheon problems with Tsukiyomi, but for the most part the Japanese pantheon was pretty relaxed. She was lucky, in that regard.

Uzume didn’t think of that. Truth be told, she was more orless lost in her own head and down mood that she didn’t even think about checking on social media. But at the suggestion, the goddess of the dawn had an outward “ah!” exclamation as she whipped out her bedazzled iPhone. The case she had it in was gold and pink, with the case itself being pink and gold stones that looked fake, but it wasn’t. A present from someone special to her. Not that someone but another someone. Anyway, it was nice and she went surfing.

“Oh!” Uzume’s mouth opened as she went down her twitter feed. “You were right again, Ama-sama! There is a get together. At Zeno Megalos’ place--” She had to remember that she wasn’t among mortals. “I mean Hercules. You know, that total of a hunk beefcake!” Her heart may have possibly belonged to another, but Uzume wasn’t blind. Hercules was absolutely a drop-dead hunk. Greeks certainly had all the looks and Uzume definitely did that respectfully. “Seems they are having a party today.” A myriad of thoughts went through her mind like it was a speedway and a bunch of really fast cars were zooming in the usually spacious head of hers. She glanced back to her mistress. Part of her probably already knew the answer but it didn’t hurt to ask. “Could be a lot of fun! We could doll up and hit it up. Maybe?”

Amaterasu smiled, but ultimately shook her head no. “Thank you, Uzu-chan, but I have a long night ahead of me.” That much was true. Though her planned evening may have been centered around wine and mortal soap operas, it nonetheless was a long one. Aside from that, she had a text message on her phone that she hadn’t opened yet. Frankly, she was dreading opening it — she knew any message from Tsukiyomi was probably going to be trouble. Knowing how much of a socialite Uzume was compared to her though, Amaterasu did feel bad about making her got a party alone. “Why don’t you reach out to another god and see if they’d like to go with you? You have my permission to take whoever you want.” It would probably be one of the Aztec goddesses if Amaterasu had to guess, so far as she knew, Uzume spent a lot of time with them.

A wave of such immense disappointment passed through Uzume, the likes that rivaled her feeling when she couldn’t get into the luncheon on account of the cops. She knew these sort of parties weren’t typically her scene, but she was hoping Ama-Sama would want to come along anyway. Get a taste of life for herself, but also get to know the drama first-hand. “Oh..okay..” Uzume sunk her head down for a few moments, her overdramatic personality taking shape once again.

At least, that was until Amaterasu mentioned what quite possibly was the literal sun shining some light on an otherwise overcast situation. “You mean it!?” Her eyes shined bright like some kind of diamond in each eye and there was an instinctual response from Uzu as she leaned over the desk to bring Amaterasu into a tight hug. It was awkward and didn’t go as successfully as she saw it going in her head. She only managed to get part of the sun goddess’ neck into her grasp. But it was the thought that counted. “Thank you thank you thank you! You’re the best, Ama-sama!”

The sun goddess did not like being touched, but she thankfully made an exception for Uzume. Of course, Amaterasu hadn’t always enjoyed Uzume’s spontaneity, but over time she’d softened up to the often tackle style hugs or ‘glomps’ as Uzume sometimes called them. Unfortunately, it didn’t work quite as well when she was leaning over a desk to try and hug her. As she pulled away, Amaterasu nodded. “I just ask that you behave.” She knew that was a tall order likely to be ignored, but she hoped that Uzume would keep it in mind when she thought about making a bad decision. Not that Amaterasu was going to delude herself into thinking that would stop her.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled warmly, “but have a great time. You deserve a break after your long day.” While she was dismissing Uzume to do whatever she wanted, there was still a lot of night left for Amaterasu. She could dread it, and run from it all day — but in the end, Tsukiyomi would find her way to the building and into her office. One way or another. “I’m going to go back to my apartment and relax, if you need anything, I’m only a phone call away. Okay?”

Uzume never understood why Ama-sama always had to ask her to behave every time she went to some function. Whether it was a party hosted by some friends -- divine or otherwise -- of hers, getting together with Xochi and some of the others from Illicit, or, really just having fun, she always behaved. She was on her best behavior. But of course, what she considered her best behavior was what Amaterasu called ‘being a deviant’.

But she appreciated her mistress’ concern. She knew she cared and that these pleas she made with Uzu always came from a place of concern. That, at the least, she could keep in mind.

“I promise Ama-sama! Have a good day and night!” Blowing an enthusiastic kiss at her, Uzume left Amaterasu’s office.

She felt happier for some reason. Relieved? No, maybe it was more like she felt re-energized? Yeah that was it. It was a weight off her shoulder. What she needed right now was to blow off some steam. She needed to have herself a good time. Surround herself with people that would make her feel happy. She needed to drink, to dance, and maybe do some things that her mistress wouldn’t necessarily approve of.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her~” Uzume giggled, getting into the elevator.

She hummed cheerfully as she watched the floor number get closer and closer to the ground floor. As she kept her eyes locked on it and the music from the elevator just became white noise at this point, an antsy Uzume was getting more uncontrollably excited the longer she had to wait for her exit. It didn’t help that occasionally people who also worked in the building got on, thus prolonging her exit.

At some point, there were about five other people in the elevator with her and Uzu struck up conversations with them. They didn’t seem particularly interested in the random nonsense she said, so after a few rounds of exchanges, she went quiet.

Thankfully, her exit came, and rushing out like the sometimes impatient ditz she was, Uzu got into her car, drove off and texted a certain someone.

“Siri! Text Farmer’s Market Hunk!”

Texting Farmer’s Market Hunk!

“Heyyyyy! It’s Uzu! There’s a party tonight. At Acropolis. You know Hercules and Apollo’s party pad? I was thinking -- we should totally go! You know, with each other!”

message sent

“I mean as a date! You know, like officially or you know whatever. Doesn’t need to be! It’ll be funnnnnnnn!”

message sent

What did she just do? Did she really just do that? She asked him out? This was a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake…

[Aewin]

𝖈 𝖆 𝖙 𝖈 𝖍 𝖚 𝖕
𝖈 𝖆 𝖙 𝖈 𝖍 𝖚 𝖕

^{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Hades & Persephone's home, by the World Tree
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Váli @Hey Im Jordan & Persephone @Aewin
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Hades @sly13, Athena @metanoia || Melinoë @KZOMBI3 || Odin @KZOMBI3 & A Special Friend}

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Váli had been in Seattle for less than a day, and already two things had gone wrong. Firstly, his father wasn’t responding to his text. Granted, Váli hadn’t exactly sent a text message with a lot to respond to, but Odin was hardly the type to ignore his only son that still liked talking to him. But that was easily overlooked; to Váli, finding Persephone at the world tree instead of at A New Leaf was more troubling.

Váli wasn’t a stranger to approaching people and having them be unaware — he was naturally quiet and stealthy in the way he moved, especially for someone so large. But, he knew she could sense his presence, the plants would have told her that he was there, but why didn’t she turn to face and acknowledge him? “Persephone, are you alright?” He asked with a frown, “This isn’t…” He thought for a moment, and then decided on a word. “...normal.”

Shortly after Thor had left her home, Persephone decided to take a walk on the grounds of Kalos Gardens. The benefits of building your home on a large sect of land filled with nothing but nature and fauna, she knew she had to take advantage of. Immediately stepping outside her home allowed her to breathe again, but she couldn’t call it refreshing.

The tree beckoned her every morning and night, and Persephone dutifully answered. She had done so since the fall, giving everything she could to nurse the life left for the good of the other deities, for her children. But what good did that do?

Váli’s voice from behind her was of no surprise. The rose bushes on the way to the Tree whispered of silence trailing after her. “Today isn’t a normal day, ευγενής.” Persephone hesitated slightly before turning to face Váli, scanning him till she was assured he was safe and healthy. “You didn’t come to the feast. I saved you an apple.”

It seemed Persephone didn’t want to talk about whatever made this a strange day, and Váli was smart enough to not press the subject. Instead, he nodded at her comment about him not attending the feast, “I like to avoid Hera. She’s… she really doesn’t like a lot of her family. And some of them don’t like her. It lights a fire in me that I’ve worked hard to quell. Thank you for saving me an apple,” He gave her a smile, but couldn’t quell the curiosity he had wondering about whatever had happened. Looking her up and down, she looked alright which pushed the darkest thoughts he had out of his mind. At least he knew she wasn’t physically hurt, at least. “My father hasn’t responded to my texts, was he at the feast?”

Persephone remained quiet for a while, trying to think back to before Macaria and Zagreus crashed through the glass. She had been waiting with Hades at their regular table, discussing their children’s first attempt at rejoining divine society in so long. “If Odin was, it must have been brief.” She was finally able to answer.

There was another pause, her thoughts once again running a mile a minute. “Have you ever questioned your divinity?” Persephone asked, her eyes glued to the tree.

Without hesitation, Váli responded. “Yes. I was created by my father to extract vengeance. After I finished my task, the mortals told stories about me and worshiped me for it. And now, I live with this curse of a divine gift.’” He paused, thinking about it a little more as he chose his words. “It’s difficult for me to eat the apple every year. I don’t know what I offer people as a mortal, and I don’t even know what the point is. Why do we get to live forever? For the dream of returning to godhood? I don’t know. I don’t think we’re all that special. I think I do it for my dad, I don’t think he could handle it if one of his sons gave up before he can reunite our family.” Though Váli’s words were heavy handed, he seemed truthful in what he was saying, like it was something he’d thought about extensively.

After he spoke, Váli frowned again. He’d gotten a little preachy, and even depressing there while he talked about it and he shook his head, “Persephone, what happened?”

Persephone wanted to scream at herself for reminding Váli of nothing but pain. In her grief she had struck a sore subject for the both of them. Her hand reached out to offer comfort, but it remained stuck in the air between them as Váli questioned her in return. For the third time that day, she had to acknowledge the cursed events of the day. “Macaria and Zagreus were killed at the feast.”

He didn’t say anything in response, not like there were any words that could be said. Instead of speaking, Váli wrapped Persephone in a warm but gentle hug. He held his friend for a few moments, and then released her before he finally spoke. “I’m so sorry. What can I do?” Persephone was a large part of the reason that Váli was able to become the ευγενής he was today, and he would have tried to move mountains if she asked him. And then something dawned on him. “Did you say killed? By… by whom? Was there a fight at the feast?” He should have been there, instead of his petty desire to avoid Hera. Maybe he could have protected them.

Alarm bells quickly started ringing in Persephone’s head, pulling away from the hug in surprise. If she knew Váli the way she claimed she did, she knew that she was speaking to the God of Vengeance, not the ευγενής she was familiar with. Persephone had to push all thoughts of violence and revenge away, clearing her mind before allowing the tendrils of satisfaction to stick like they had that morning against Hati. “I don’t know. Athena is investigating, I trust her wisdom to guide us to their killer. For now, all I can do is grieve and protect Melinoë. I… I can’t let anything happen to her.” Her hand touched her stomach, the ugly thoughts resurfacing again. She closed her eyes but all she could see was their bodies, forcing her to reopen her eyes to stare almost panickedly at the World Tree. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I see her body like Macaria.”

So long as Váli drew breath, he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to Melinoë, if only to protect Persephone from going through this again. He made a mental note to reach out to Athena… though she and Váli hadn’t gotten along in the past. Maybe they could unite on this issue. “You won’t.” Váli said in a simple promise. Even without his vigilance, he thought it unlikely another of their kind fell. Everyone would be on high guard, and there surely wouldn’t be anything too adventurous happening in the near future.

“The boys are doing well. You should come down and see them again sometime.” Váli gently changed the subject, trying to move it toward… anything else. If they kept talking about the violent happenings and the fallout, then Váli feared the kind of mood he’d leave in.

The change in topics was a welcome one, allowing Persephone to relax as she engaged in conversation about Váli’s boys. It wasn’t long before the distraction became effective, Persephone smiling because of Váli’s antics just before landing in Seattle. “You must have made Eric’s day, letting him be your unwitting hero.” Persephone praised with gentle laughter. “But please promise me you won’t scare the poor boy like that again.”

“He was very brave. I just don’t understand why they always want McDonald’s…” Váli frowned. He struggled to think of a time when he would choose McDonald’s when told he could have whatever he wanted for dinner. Why not steak, or lobster? Or… something more exotic? Váli had eaten McDonald’s so many times he’d gotten his order down to a science. “I think he’ll be a good fit for my little family.”

A soft smile lingered on her face as she saw the contentedness cross Váli’s face. She knew nothing purer than Váli’s love for his boys. “I bet James had something to say to Eric once he joined your family.” Persephone eyed Váli with a familiar expression, one he would come to know as teasing. “I bet he told Eric all about your special friend.” Váli had sweetly confided in her one day about his crush, melting the Goddess’ heart from the sincere way he talked about his friend. James, the oldest child in Váli’s Valhalla had come to join Persephone with teasing the God in front of her.

Váli couldn’t fight it as a light pink blush rose up in his cheeks. He didn’t like talking about his ‘special friend,’ but Persephone was right. James probably would tell the others to expect him to bring a girl home with him… Váli didn’t even know the first step in getting a girl to go out for dinner, let alone getting one to go home with him. “He asked me if I was going to bring her home this time. I don’t even know how I’d do that. I mean, I don’t even know if she likes me back.” In spite of himself, when Váli spoke of the woman he crushed on, he ended up sounding less like the god of vengeance, and more like a love struck puppy.

“Have you tried talking to her first?” Persephone suggested. “Stealing her away is old-fashioned, it’s all about building a connection in this era.” She thought back to the first time she had spent in the underworld with Hades, the shy and tentative conversation slowly getting bolder as she had gotten comfortable around him.

Yikes. It felt like Persephone was going for the throat, and all Váli could do was try his best not to trip over his words while he spoke. “I’ve talked to her!” He protested. A ‘hi, how are you?’ wasn’t the most valuable conversation in the world, but Váli definitely felt it counted for something. “It’s not very easy for me to build a connection with someone. That’s why I live in the woods, Perse. Got any advice?” Most of the Greeks were people Váli would never ask for relationship advice, but having been friends with Persephone for many years now and having watched her relationship with Hades, Váli couldn’t think of a better person on the planet to ask.

“First of all, it helps to be in the same place as her more often.” Persephone started. “Unless you do what the mortals do these days and try texting her instead. Regardless, start by asking about her day and go from there. If the conversation grows quiet, ask her about something she may like. A connection is built by talking and learning about each other.” Persephone may not have been a goddess of love, but she was more than happy to share what worked for her and Hades.

“Right. Texting. Asking about her day, that makes sense…” Idle conversation was hardly Váli’s strong suit, and he had half a mind to ask Persephone to coach him through it with an earpiece when the time came, but decided that would be neither stealthy nor attractive. “Is it nice? Having the same person as your partner for so long, I mean. I reckon things must be near perfect for you and Hades both for thing to be so… smooth.” Váli sounded undeniably envious as he spoke with a smile on his lips. “I imagine most of the deities are jealous of the two of you. So far as I know, there hasn’t been a relationship that’s worked out across the pantheons other than the two of you.”

“ευγενής, I assure you there isn’t anything you have to fear.” Persephone knew that affirmations were the best way forward with Vali. Despite being one of the sweetest divines she had the pleasure of knowing, he often struggled with connecting with those he wasn’t familiar with. She only wanted him to see himself the way she saw him.

When it came to talking about her own relationship though… Persephone couldn’t help but smile. Hades always brought out a feeling of comfort within her. It was a safe feeling, one that never changed even after their fall. “Hades and I are not perfect by any means. The difference is that we always put each other first. Being united gives us our strength.” If she had the chance, she would always gush about her Hades. “You could be like us too, you know. Put yourself out there, like Hades did. Just… not the kidnapping part.”

Váli wondered if Persephone really thought he was capable of kidnapping the woman he had a crush on, or if she were just saying the warning as a jab at her husband. He thought about asking, but before he had a chance his phone’s notification went off. “Oh, this is probably my father, give me just a second.” He said, and pulled his phone out, idly scanning the messages. After he finished, he looked up at Persephone. With his brow furrowed in confusion, he spoke. “I think I just got asked out on a date.” He said, with a voice that conveyed the disbelief he was feeling.

He moved the phone so that Persephone could see the series of text messages…

From: Sunshine

Heyyyyy! It’s Uzu! There’s a party tonight. At Acropolis. You know Hercules and Apollo’s party pad? I was thinking -- we should totally go! You know, with each other!

I mean as a date! You know, like officially or you know whatever. Doesn’t need to be! It’ll be funnnnnnnn!

“...what do I say?”

Persephone only had to blink twice before she responded. “Tell her to meet you here, obviously! You want to go with her, right?”

To: Sunshine

I accept. Can you meet me at Persephone’s?

[Fabricant451]

Concenter

_{location: Emerald Kelpie
interactions: Cerridwen | Tlazōlteōtl @KZOMBI3
mentions: Benzaiten @Hey Im Jordan | Ares @Legion02}

---

Tlazōlteōtl wandered around the city, the rain from earlier seemingly disappearing as quickly as it came. No place in mind, not really, not anymore. Her anger dissipated with Hathor down the street. Through the throng of people that walked the streets, brushing past mortals caused her pause, just long enough for her to work her magic. Enticing others to act on their sin; someone was robbed just behind her, a throuple being broken up as one leaned up to kiss the other. A type of chaos she thrived in, though she gained no joy from it.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she continued on, until a thought crossed her mind, or rather someone. Pulling out her phone she dialed a familiar number. At least with a call she wouldn't be able to avoid her. A small smile on her lips.

On the outside, the Emerald Kelpie looked almost no different from the kind of fairy tale cabin the kids in stories were told to avoid but never did. There was a hanging wood craft sign with an emblem of a horse’s head and the words ‘Emerald Kelpie’ written in olde font - it looked like the words and logo were burned into the wood - and the front wall had small rectangular windows but, more importantly, it was made from stone with moss poking out of some of the cracks. At a glance it wouldn’t have looked that out of place in some Tolkein story. The fact that it was able to exist in the modern area only made it more unusual given that the buildings near it were far more modern in architecture. But when it came to the Emerald Kelpie, aesthetics were important, almost as important as the product sold inside.

Paisley Sinclair, the name most patrons of the Kelpie knew her by, enjoyed living and operating in a house reminiscent of the cabins she used to live in back when she was known as The White Witch, back when most mortals were lucky to live past the age of thirty. Of course back then she was known by Cerridwen, a name which, now, was used mostly by those who knew her as such. Or when they wanted to be cute.

Inside the Kelpie there was silence. Other than the music coming from what looked like a very old phonograph. With eyes closed, head slowly swaying to the music, and incense sticks burning away next to her coating the room in a gentle herbal haze that tickled the nostrils, was Cerridwen herself. The shop was closed, her new crop was growing well, everything was…perfect.

And then her phone rang.

“Though’ I pu’ y’awn silent.” Cerridwen spoke, her sing-songy Scottish trill sounding playfully annoyed by the distraction as she pressed a button on her phone. Unfortunately, the button she pushed was just the volume button on the side and her ringtone went louder. It took her three more tries to answer the phone properly and even when she did she was pretty sure she was on video or speaker or both. Why did they make these things so…complicated?“Aye? Alrigh’ mate?”

"Cerri, love~," She practically purred into the receiver, picking up on crackling music playing in the background. The top half of the White Witch's face took up the bottom of the phone screen, resulting in a crack of a smile to grace Tlazōlteōtl's features. It felt like the first one in what seemed like eons as she continued on her walk through the city, "Please tell me you're available for a late night rendezvous."

The night was relatively young and the state with which she left her strip club it was better for her to just stay out for the evening. The other gods were scattered about dealing with the deaths on their own, keeping busy. The thought of fearing for her safety was the furthest from her mind, especially after her interaction with a particular secret love child, and all she wanted to do was indulge in some expertly crafted potions and herbs and converse about anything other than Ares.

There was only one person who could make the word ‘love’ seem like it was weaved from silk. Tlazōlteōtl. Or Tlaz, or any other names spoken by people in eager whispers. At a glance, Cerridwen and Tlaz might have seemed to be the last people who would be friends, but it was often the ones who seemed like oil and water turned out to be anything but. Like many things in Cerridwen’s life, it started with herb. Cerridwen gave Tlaz some prime Kelpie kush which worked wonders and what had turned from a business deal over time became a friendship. Cerridwen had an open door policy on those she liked and Tlaz was one of them. Fortunately, Tlaz hadn’t abused that - which was as much Cerridwen admitting she enjoyed the company as anything else, though she would be hard pressed to admit such a thing outright if only because Cerridwen was not great at discussing her own feelings and thoughts.

“Well…I was gonnae sit in me chair for a good hour or so so I suppose I’m good for a rendezvous, aye. I’ll pu’ the kettle on.” The fact that Tlaz was wanting a late night rendezvous could only mean one thing: she likely had a lot on her mind that she definitely did not want to think about. Cerridwen had been there many times. The least she could do was offer her friend time and, if she knew Tlaz, something a bit more than tea to get the mind off of problems for the moment.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Walking up to the Emerald Kelpie was like stepping back in time, a place out of place. The surrounding buildings and sounds kept the Aztec grounded in the present but there was something ethereal standing on the stoop outside such an ancient ornate door. With a single knock the door came to life and swung on it’s own accord, the sign in the window having long since been flipped to showcase a closed business for the evening, allowing the two of them to converse in comfortable privacy.

It was long overdue, their friendly get-togethers. Things had been running rampant with preparing for the Festival and training the newest recruits to Illicit’s… well, illicit dealings. Tlaz could never truly trust those she brought into her fold unless they were vetted and screened, Hathor and Phobos helped a lot in those regards - especially when it came to making sure their clients didn’t step a toe over line. And yet, even though there had been so much commotion going on, Cerridwen was there. She always was. Providing comfort and an easy form to gaze upon while conversing.

She walked with a purpose through the threshold of the Kelpie, closing the door with just enough force to announce her presence, but not so much as to offend the owner and the soul of the place. It was as if an ancient being, more so than the gods themselves, dwelled within the bones of the home turned business. Every plant and creature that decided to live within the premises thrived and would do so, even if Cerridwen was shirking duties - though that would never be the case with the Celt. Too proud of the work she produces to ever allow something like responsibility to take over. The floors creaked ever so slightly beneath her feet, greenery hanging from pots in the ceiling draping down like makeshift curtains. The multitude of rugs and other linens provided comfort for weary feet on the ground and if one took the time to examine them they would have seen stories of old told in their weavings. Shelves lined the walls of the bottom floor; the business portion of the house. Glass cases filled with tins and baubles, blown glass vials and containers all for the sole purpose of effectively using the organic products of the Kelpie.

She could hear the slow rustling of someone upstairs and began to make her way to the winding spiral in the back of the shop, ascending into the cozy light of the Witch’s home. After clearing the final step she announced herself more clearly, seeing the form of Cerridwen in the kitchen past more plants, lit candles and furniture reminiscent of the Shire. A large grin took over, and Tlaz could already feel some of the tension leaving her when she stepped up into the sanctuary that was Cerridwen’s home and she sighed heavily in relief; this was exactly what she needed. “Nican nicatpolotica, and I managed to snag some authentic whiskey to pair with that tea of yours.”

While the scent of floral incense was still lingering in the air of Cerridwen’s humble abode, it was competing now with the stronger scent of something…sweet. The Emerald Kelpie, apart from being a brand and shop to purchase all manner of sensory enhancing herbal remedies and blends - now even in gummy form - was also Cerridwen’s long standing home. Though its location changed over the years, it had been standing since the days of antiquity and were it not for the scant few lamps it would seem that the only modern innovation present in the stone walls of the Kelpie was the cash register on the first floor. But even the lamps on a close enough look seemed to be kerosene and not electric. The first floor of the establishment was quite reminiscent of a gift shop in a historical village; it had clearly been retrofitted to be a dispensary and was thus a bit more ‘modern’ though that was like saying the 1800s were more modern than the 1700s.

Upstairs, though, was where Cerridwen lived and thrived. As Tlaz made her way upstairs, Cerridwen was standing in front of a masonry oven, bellows to the side, the sound of wood crackling under the embers.“Aye, luv, ga’un grab a seat, like.” Cerridwen gestured towards the chairs in what would be known as a living room to modern sorts, though rather than there being a television or the like there was a large bookshelf and her phonograph that was still playing the music, though at a considerably softer volume. There was a coffee, or tea, table that had all the signs of being hastily cleaned which was why on top of the bookshelf there were a bunch of papers and envelopes and coupons. The whistling of a kettle pierced through the soft music and Cerridwen scrambled to grab two mugs from atop a cabinet and set them, along with the teapot, onto a silver tray. She brought the tray to the table and held up a single finger towards Tlaz as she turned on her heels and went back to the oven.

“I’ve made some parlies they’ll be done’na sec. That’d be the ginger ya smell. Get somethin’ sweet in ya, course wha’ cannae be sweeter’n yew, luv?” Cerridwen pulled a small tray of sweet, brown biscuits/cookies from the oven and placed them onto a glass plate and it was with the plate of parlies that Cerridwen finally joined Tlaz in the living room, placing the cookies next to the tea tray as she settled into a chair. “Ah’m trustin’ ye’tae keep me honest. Donnae wan’ get so smashed I wind up paradin’ about in me knickers singin’ The Braes o’ Killiecrankie.”

“Well that’s no fun~,” she cooed, helping herself to one of the cookies placed on the table before them and taking a bite, making sure to not spill crumbs all over her friend’s floor. Her own chair was so comfortable she found it easy to relax into, sinking into the cushions. It had been some time since the two of them got together as such. Enjoying the other’s company over tea and drinks, kush and other potions making an appearance later in their visits. It was a place strictly to regroup her thoughts, to sort them out without being swayed one way or another. Tlaz valued Cerridwen’s opinions on practical and emotional matters, taking them to heart and trying to apply them. Sin can only be withheld for so long before it’s itching to crawl out.

A content and dreamy sigh escaped her as she enjoyed the baked goods, it wasn’t every day she got to indulge in many things of the homemade variety. “Ahuializtli… simply delicious, Cerri,” It really was, melting on her tongue as she devoured the rest of the treat in a speed that surprised even her. If she were to think about it, it had been a rather tumultuous day and there wasn’t a moment where she was able to stop and eat something - the drinks at the luncheon didn’t count, she just ended up puking them back up once the bodies dropped. Tlazōlteōtl shook her head to rid herself of the image forever burned there.

As much as it took up space in the forefront of her mind, she didn’t want to bring down the ambiance of Cerri’s home with talk of the dead. It wouldn’t benefit either of them. Not yet at least. So instead of dwelling on the negative she turned to face the woman beside her, throwing her legs over the arms of the chair, a coy smile painted on her lips, “Tell me, what’ve you been up to? It’s only been a week since last we spoke though it feels so much longer. How is the shop, Benzaiten?” A well timed wriggle of her brows at the goddess’ name and a roll of her shoulders indicated that Tlazōlteōtl was indeed not just interested in the Japanese’s well-being.

As Tlaz was enjoying the gingery goodness of Cerridwen’s baked goods - and even when there wasn’t anything special in the batch, Cerridwen was a hell of a baker - the Celtic witch was sipping her tea with a gentle touch. There was a time when she had saucers to go with the teacups but an offhand remark comparing the saucer to being ‘bougie’ had gotten Cerridwen to invest in mugs instead. Mugs were fascinating things. Mortals gave them as gifts frequently but someone who had an abundance of mugs seemed more likely to simply display them rather than use them. And there were so many different little images and designs on mugs. Some had sayings on them even! Truly the height of mortal ingenuity. She didn’t know if there was a god of cups or ceramics but if there was, they deserved all the cute little mugs they could handle.

After taking a sip, Cerridwen closed her eyes and inhaled the aroma. Passionflower tea. One of the many herbal teas she was intimately familiar with. Good for anxiety and better sleep. It was one of Cerridwen’s favorites and, incidentally, one of the goddess Freyja’s least favorites as Cerridwen learned - something about passionflower being bad for pregnancy and that valerian root tea was better for it. But she couldn’t make valerian tea, it was a bad combination with alcohol of which whiskey was.

After taking a healthy whiff of the floral tea, Cerridwen went in for another sip but promptly paused as Tlaz asked the important questions. The kind of question that, had Cerridwen had liquid in her mouth, would cause a spit take. “Benny? Why, what’ve ya heard?” Cerridwen looked around, her eyes blinking at a quickened pace, her cheeks turning a delightful pinkish hue - she would no doubt claim it was the tea’s heat that did it. Benzaiten was one of Cerridwen’s oldest and best, fondest customers. While not all of Benzaiten’s escapades with people over the years came with Kelpie branded products, enough of them had that Cerridwen was comfortable enough saying that she was as much inspiration as Benzaiten had been. But only playfully, she would never wish to take away from Benzaiten’s numerous accomplishments and adventures.

“I mean, shop’s good, aye. Bit slow, losin’ some folk coz I donnae sell vaporizers or some such, like. Too mechanical, yeah? But..abou’ Benny…I have nae seen her in an age. Comes and goes, she does. Why, she mention me did she? What she say, like? Ga’un then, tell us.”

Shrugging as if it was nothing serious Tlazōlteōtl placed her cup back down on the table before her, making sure not to leave a ring on the aged furniture, before settling back into the comfort the chair provided. “That’s just it, haven’t heard too much from her. But you know her, she’s as free of a spirit as they come and as elusive as trying to catch running water in your hands. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she’s inspired the next age of supers; heroes and villains alike.” She had to chuckle to herself, the idea of someone years down the road expositing their life story and mentioning this wild child of a goddess, coming to them in their time of need and offering to have a smoke session going while also teaching them how to ‘properly fold origami’ just screamed Ben’s MO. How could she not?

Though, it wasn’t too difficult to see the effect the wild child had over the Celt. She wouldn’t continue to circle back to Ben if she didn’t care for her in a way that seemed more than just platonic. It would be so easy to pry, to get her to open up more about her love life, rather than Tlaz bring down the mood with issues of her own heart. Looking around the room, mindlessly fiddling with the loose threads come bare on the arm of the chair had her thinking of her next words carefully. It was easy to get lost in the conversations had here. Life and the world halted around them. It was just them content with the comfort and safety of the house around them. Their own personal haven. The environment reminiscent of times long passed, a simpler time. One without the stress and worry that tacked onto immortality in the modern world. Perhaps that’s why Cerridwen chose to use as little tech as possible, in order to keep her sanctuary as it was. A refusal of change or something more primal, real.

“Do tell me, noyollo icniuh, have you spoken these feelings to the looking glass? To her?” There was a smirk on her face that would put the Cheshire cat to shame and that knowing glint to her gaze as she sat upright, leaning in on her elbows to examine her friend closely. There was no denying that there was something going on between the two of them and distracting herself with lust and love of said friend was the medicine she needed in the moment. If not to help then to just listen.

“As far as your customers go, love, you know I’m more than willing to have it promoted in the clubs. Say the word and it’s done. Though, if you wished you could always set up shop within those fairs that take place. You would make a killing,”

Of course Cerridwen hadn’t spoken any feelings to anyone, there were no feelings. None at all. Her face going red and eyes going wide - or wider as it were - at mere mention of Benzaiten was just coincidence. Happenstance. Hell, if it weren’t for one particular get together where Cerridwen got a little too comfortable after a string of drinks and basically admitted to the patron of filth that the last time Cerridwen got intimate she pictured someone else’s face and wondered if that was bad then it was likely that Tlaz wouldn’t have even known about Cerridwen’s thoughts on one of their fellow deities. Cerridwen swore Tlaz to secrecy. The White Witch couldn’t get caught up in such…mortal affairs of adolescent longing.

Her blush remained as Tlaz smirked at the Celt’s general direction. It was almost too easy, it seemed, for Tlaz specifically to get Cerridwen reacting like this. She was squirming in her seat, not that it was uncomfortable, just that when Cerridwen was embarrassed she tended to show it with her whole body. Her seat-based squirming made the rickety sound of the chair speak for her before her words did. “Spoken? Ya cannae be serious, like. Wot’m I gonnae say t’her? She’s ou’ there inspirin’ people and I live in a wee cabin in the woods like I’s gonna gobble up children what get lost. No way I’s a chance wi’ someone like that.” Cerridwen protested as her fidgeting came to a stop just before her words did. “Could finagle up a love potion but tha’s cheatin’ it is. And a bit squicky. Moral complications used tae mean fuckall back when I blinked and a hundred years passed.”

Cerridwen calmed slightly as she sipped at her tea, the floral aroma wafting up and tickling the tip of her nose. The way her nose twitched, she was reminded of the time an older sort mentioned that she was like a character from an old television show. Of course, Cerridwen had to act like she both knew what a television was and that she watched it or at least was interested in doing so.“Oh the fairs are lovely even with the inaccuracies. The little costumes and things. Y’know I got to play a servin’ gel at one. Had a little snog with a fella beard all’a red. Didnae taste like ginger despite him sayin’ such. Beautiful times, fairs. But to yer point…I hate tae ask a favour, ya know I do, but aye if you and yours could drop the brand, I’m sure more business would come in. Not that I’m doin’ bad, like, but it never hurts tae have more, y’know? I can get ya a promotion pack thing. Couple pounds o’me stuff, or some baked goods and some cards wi’ me logo on it. I’ll owe ya somethin’ fierce, love.”

It was the words she looked forward to hearing the most. Tlazōlteōtl wasn’t the most skilled in being subtle, though she would say she had a gift for it. A joke amongst those that knew her well. There wasn’t a thing in the world she did without being flashy or showy or seeking all eyes on her; except in this case. “Something fierce, huh?” No longer did a coy smile occupy her face but one of pure mischievousness.”I’m quite positive I already know what it is I would want,” she examined her nails as if there was something interesting written across them. As if they were going to give her what it was she wanted in that moment. No, only Cerridwen could do that.

Eyes half lidded with a mirthful gleam raked over her hosts’ features, promoting her friend was nothing - she would have done so in a heartbeat regardless of receiving anything in exchange for the act. However, now that the offer is on the table, how could she not use that to her advantage?

“Why do I feel like m’words’re gonnae get me in trouble wi’you?” Cerridwen asked with only a small trace of genuine concern in her voice. Tlaz had a smile on her face, which wouldn’t be unusual given she was quite a smiler in the best of times, but this was less the smile of someone happy to see someone and more the smile of someone watching from the sidelines as a rival trips on ice and stumbles into oncoming traffic. It wasn’t as if Cerridwen feared for her life, but she knew Tlaz enough to know to expect only the unexpected. She could assume and guess as to what her friend was hinting at, but if she was wrong then it would be awkward and nothing killed conversation or anything between friends quite like awkwardness. She would know, she once made what she thought was a clever bit of entendre at the annual ceremony that wound up getting overheard in a moment of silence. Her only rebuttal was admitting rather brusquely that that was why she tended to talk to plants only.

“What is it ya wan’, then? I could guess but where’s the fun in that, aye?”

“It takes all the fun out of it~,” she grinned but it was all in fun, she was glad Cerridwen saw it as it was. And just like the cat that ate the canary Tlaz was sitting forward, all smiles and knowing gleams in eyes. “I want you to ask Ben out on a date. Make an effort to show her the truth that lies within your soul, between your bones. We can see it, noyollo icniuh, how you look at her. And when you two are together, it’s as if the sun has shined down on your patch of wooden sanctuary,” Which wasn’t a lie. It had been something that the Aztec had been trying to get her to see for ages. Both of them were too stubborn to make a first move, or extend anything further than banter and flirtations.

It was now time for action, and if Tlazōlteōtl had to bribe the White Witch into action, so be it.

“I cannae do tha’.” Cerridwen’s voice was raised in pitch and her hair was dancing across her forehead with how frantically she was swaying her head side to side. Never would she have guessed that that was Tlaz’s request; Cerridwen was assuming the favor would be something along the lines of fingers, lips, and hips but then she kicked herself mentally for thinking so little of her friend as to assume the only thing on her mind were thoughts of an intimate nature. Not to mention it would have been a waste of a favor as Cerridwen had yet to meet someone who would say no to the Aztec. “I’ve no’ been on a proper date in a hundred years. Maybe more.” She wasn’t exaggerating. Cerridwen kept to herself a lot of the time and no one would count one night stands every once in a full moon as an active dating life.

“Plus, she’d never agree tae it. Look at me house. I’m one graham cookie away from bein’ a witch that ets kids. Who’d wan’tae go on a date wi’ me? Definitely no’ someone like Benzaiten. She’s got…options. She’s…I got nothin’ tae offer her other than herbs.”

"Ah, ah, ah," her curly head bounced along with the motion of her shushing the woman before her. It was true, the house was of the green witch variety and sure if she decorated the outside of her shop with lollies and candy and the like she would be bound to gain more customers of the... younger generations. But that wasn't the point and she knew it! Shaking her head of all the nonsense the Celt was spewing, a lunge away from covering her mouth with her own hand, "Dating isn't easy. Never was; especially not for us who have been around for as long as we have. But this isn't some mortal who you must lie and shy away from. It's Ben. She has no more options than you, amor. Besides, when have you ever known her to say no to you, huh~?"

The silence that passed between them for a beat as she reached for her mug was palpable. Pairing nicely with the Passionflower tea sitting on her tongue; aptly served for the conversation at hand. "Look," she started, setting the now empty cup on the table once more, settling back into her seat, legs folded underneath her frame as she leaned forward once more, "If you need the push required to fulfill my request I am more than happy to assist." Tlaz wanted nothing more for Cerridwen than for her to find her happiness, to have someone to spend the rest of this eternity with. Selling herbs and potions to mortal's with questioning gazes, spending time in the afternoon sun sitting back with a good book and company. Ruining bed-sheets for the sake of it. The wholesome idealesqueness of it all sent shivers up her spine. "I would never do you wrong, you know that."

As much as the pep talk was appreciated it did little to alter Cerridwen’s mind on the matter; panic was writ large across her naturally expressive face as her eyes were shimmering in the corners and her lip was twitching at the sides. If she were the type of person to perspire, her forehead would be drenched in the stuff, but as it stood her brow was merely scrunched up and creases formed on her forehead. She was like that any time someone mentioned Benzaiten to her - and it was worse if Benzaiten happened to be within eyesight; at least now Cerridwen could still form words. Her thoughts on Benzaiten were not exactly a secret though the way the Celt acted she figured the only one who knew of her long standing crush was her.

“I cannae jus’ call her up and ask her round for a spo’of dinner now, can I? ‘ows I suppose’tae ask her out, like? I’s no idea where she even is. No. No, better I jus’...better it be like it is. An’ what if she says no, aye? Then it makes it awkward. And I’m plenty o’tha’ on my own” She was babbling. Rambling. Coming up with a dozen reasons not to do something. And some people wondered why she took to the herb. “It’s no’ that I don’ trust ya, I do, it’s just I don’ trust m’self.” Cerridwen took a long, shaky gulp of her tea; it wasn’t piping hot anymore which likely contributed to her finishing the cup with the gulp. As she set it on the table in front of her, her fingers were shaking, not much, just enough that it would make lines drift on paper.

“How d’you do it? Date, I mean.”

It was her turn to balk and flounder with herself, the question throwing her off any game she might have had in that moment. Her recovery time was not something to be impressed by either, as Tlaz sat there deep in thought, mouth gaping like a fish trying to breathe. "Well, it's been... awhile in the nicest terms. Haven't had a proper date in ages," she had to laugh at it, though it was a bitter, somber type of laugh. The memory of her last official "date" having been something that took place almost forty years ago stoked the glowing embers within her and soon the fire would blaze once more. She could feel it.

"When Ares... walked out on me, on us, it was difficult to properly date someone again. Little trysts and rendezvous here and there. A lot of one night stands. Don't get me wrong, sex is amazing... not all the time but beggar's can't be choosers, hmm," she threw in a wink and the coy smile she was known for, "We're in an age where dating and courting and wooing one's intended isn't so commonplace anymore. It would have done wonders for me back before the Fall, but now?" The chuckle that escaped her was laced with a dark edge, a complete 180 from just moments before, "Now I wish to have something more permanent. Steady and real. Something to hold on to until the end, I s'pose. Too romantic, huh?"

As she sat there looking across to the dark haired beauty before her, Tlazōlteōtl couldn't help but be reminded of herself and the situation between her and Ares. One seemingly chasing the other without committing to the endgame. A series of looks of longing and idle fantasies of what could be, not what is. Maybe that was more par for the course as to why she was so invested in Cerridwen's love life or lack thereof. Of course she wanted to see her friend happy and in love and experiencing the joyful feelings that she was lucky enough to have at one point. But maybe it was more selfish than that? Cerridwen was able to have her happily ever after. One of them should at the very least.

The topic of love was a difficult one in the best of times but especially given the pair of them. Cerridwen hadn’t known love in as long as she remembered; even before the Fall her love was more maternal rather than romantic and she’d known no romantic partner in all her years. One need not be in love to have children and nowhere was that more obvious than with the various other deities in her address book. How many children did the Greeks have not out of love but out of a desire so base it makes one wonder how they ever stood above mortals. And the less said about the Norse and their various trysts and offsprings regarding animal traits the better, Of course, Cerridwen couldn’t cast stones, her own pantheon wasn’t squeaky clean just because she, in comparison, was. But just because love was so complicated didn’t mean that it wasn’t worth pursuing and Cerridwen was happy that Tlaz had Ares for a time. That time may have ended and Cerridwen knew better than to try and say some faux inspirational greeting card quote - even though she found the saccharine poetry of greeting cards to be lovely reading with its sentimentality condensed into sub-limerick style. Cerridwen had submitted some poems to condolence and greeting cards but as yet they had been rejected.

“Too romantic? Never.” Cerridwen did offer some words of encouragement and signed them with a smile. “I think it’s wonderful that y’aren’ afraid tae try. I know it must be difficult in your field, havin’ all manner o’ sex and all, tae separate the two. Or maybe it’s no’. I dunnae. Point is, someone peddlin’ lust is more deservin’ o’ love than most. I don’ have many friends, like, and the ones I do have, like you, aye, well I wan’ nothin’ but your happiness. You want somethin’ real? You’ll get it. Oh gosh, I’m soundin’ like a true nonce ent I?” Cerridwen couldn’t keep herself from giggling at her comments. She tried not to dip too far into maudlin territory but the tea might have been loosening her idea of what too far was. She was, if nothing else, completely honest in her words at least. She always was, for better or worse.

“Have ye though’ abou’ datin’ outside the realm of our kind? I hear some of us have had it on wi’ some mortals for more than jus’ a bit’o fun.”

"I've had my fair share of mortals to keep me entertained and my bed warm, but none of them are..." she paused a moment to think of the right wording for what they were. What were they? Other than just placeholders. Nothing, really. They weren't overly exciting, or completely mundane. They didn't provide a sense of spark for kindling that she desired. Not to mention, they were never present long enough to make the connections matter. Sure, if she found one to spend the rest of their mortal life with she might be inclined to refuse the fruit so as to pass on to a permanent death with them. But, she just couldn't. Regardless of Ares and their issues, it was him her soul called out for. "Permanent. Being able to outlive them all... it's not worth the heartache."

Tlaz cleared her throat however, trying to get the topic off of anything that would bring the mood back down. As if her thoughts were heard by unknown forces, her phone chimed in with a message. Quickly glancing at it, not wanting to take up valuable time with Cerridwen, she scanned the message - somewhere deep within her hoping it was Ares - and her eyes twinkled with mischief. A party? This would prove very beneficial to all involved. Turning back to company present, a sultry smile wide and telling, holding up her phone for her to gaze at herself, "But like I said, one night stands, Cerri. It's where they're at."

Cerridwen couldn’t do anything other than implicitly agree via shrugged shoulder and slow sip of tea at the remark of outliving mortals. That tended to do a number on any long term relationships with them, but it had the unfortunate side effect of giving a fair number of their kind a real intimacy problem. And how could it not? Anyone who could live, in essence, forever would slowly start to lose things like morality or decency. Some of them had never had it, to be fair. But Cerridwen couldn’t exactly fault some of their peers for being…full of ennui or trying to deal with it by indulging in more hedonistic pursuits.

And on cue, Tlaz held up her phone, with talk of an Acropolis party and instinctively Cerridwen was shaking her head. Her phone didn’t buzz which, to her, suggested that she wasn’t invited. Which was fine. Cerridwen wasn’t someone you invited to parties, Cerridwen was someone you bought a lot of weed from before throwing a party because the last time Cerridwen was at a party she sat on a couch with a cup of beer and then after the sixth couple collapsed onto her in the middle of an intense makeout session, she decided to talk to the plants for a couple hours instead. At least the deviled eggs she brought were eaten. By her. After she took them home because no one ate them.

“Tlaz, sweetie, ye’d have tae drag me kickin’ an’ screamin’...”

[Danvers]

𝓪 𝓷 𝓾 𝓷 𝓮 𝔁 𝓹 𝓮 𝓬 𝓽 𝓮 𝓭 𝓪 𝓬 𝓺 𝓾 𝓪 𝓲 𝓷 𝓽 𝓪 𝓷 𝓬 𝓮
𝓪 𝓷 𝓾 𝓷 𝓮 𝔁 𝓹 𝓮 𝓬 𝓽 𝓮 𝓭 𝓪 𝓬 𝓺 𝓾 𝓪 𝓲 𝓷 𝓽 𝓪 𝓷 𝓬 𝓮

^{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — Acropolis (Mel's Room → Hercules' Room)
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Hebe @Danvers || Hercules @metanoia
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 — Melinoë @KZOMBI3 || Apollo @smarty0114}

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The pair made their way into what would be Melinoe’s room, Hebe quietly closing the door behind them. She placed a glass of cold water on the bedside table, along with a silly straw. Silly straws always made everything a bit better, or at least they did in her case. The goddess moved to straighten out the bed sheets, wondering if Mel had enough to decorate the space with. Maybe she could go shopping with or for her if not. She tried not to think about what had happened at the Olympic Club, tried to block out the image of their dead bodies lying still on the floor. It was so far from what she herself represented, it felt like she was watching a movie, something utterly unreal. But, she also had no right to be upset. They weren't her family. Yet...

Hebe plopped herself down on the edge of the bed, shooting Hercules a small smile as she brushed away a rogue tear. "Sorry, I'm such a cry baby." She laughed forcefully. Her and Zagreus had been so close once upon a time, when she had still lived atop Mount Olympus. And even though her mother had never liked him, Hebe had not cared. There had been few people during that time who she had actually been able to call true friends. Her legs swung idly back and forth as she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't be so miserable. She knew Herc well enough to know he wouldn't want to focus on the sad and she really didn't want to make him feel sad.

"Apollo makes good food." She commented idly as she glanced up at the God of Heroes, stating a fact that most of the Greek pantheon were well aware of. "Yup..." Way to be weird and awkward Heebs.

While Hebe was making sure the sheets were straight enough and, from the squeaking he heard, the bed was in tip-top shape on the bounce spectrum, Boy Wonder was busy making sure the closet had everything it needed. And considering it was empty on account of Mel’s stuff not being here yet, Herc did the typical thing he always did: hands on his hips, nodding to himself, with a brief “yep! All good here” as he closed it and saw the goddess of youth on the bed, mentioning Apollo’s cooking.

“Fuck yeah he does!” He instantaneously agreed. “Especially compared to my cooking.” He let out a hearty laugh, one that was bound to carry in the unusually quiet Acropolis. “Like I’m pretty sure I’ve been unofficially banned from the kitchen because of a certain incident that occurred a few months ago.” Even the thought of it made Hercules visibly dreadful and that was on top of the very genuine reason to feel a sense of dread.

"What happened!?" Hebe leaned forwards, curiosity getting the better of her and for a moment, easing the sadness she had been feeling. "You- you didn't set a fire did you?" The goddess raised a small knowing eyebrow at him. It wouldn't be the first time Herc had set something on fire, intentionally or not.

“No..” Herc said in the most unconvincing tone that he’s ever spoken in. “Well, not a big one at least, but you know Apo! Dude loves this area. The forest life is his bread and butter…aside from his actual bread and butter - which are so fire. Homemade bread and butter really hits different than the store-bought variety.” Hercules knew he got off-track but he couldn’t help but think about homemade bread, but specifically olive bread. Herc could bathe in it and he’d die a happy god! “But where was I? Oh right. The mini-fire. I kind of overcooked something - I don’t remember what - and I forgot about it. Forced us to remodel the whole kitchen, which is why it’s a lot nicer than other parts of the house, and Apo pretty much forbade me from going near the stove ever again without any direct supervision.” It saddened him in all honesty, but he understood. If a true fire broke out, where else would their kind go to unleash all their stress?

Hebe couldn't help but let out a small giggle as Herc spoke, her posture relaxing a little. "Wow, I never realised you liked bread and butter so much..." She began to idly pull at some of the pins that were holding her blonde hair up, fed up with the prim style, and allowing it to eventually fall atop her shoulders. "I'm not great at cooking but I can make pancakes and waffles. With loads of chocolate chips of course!" Hebe added. She was increasingly aware of the fact that she'd only managed to eat one mini sandwich at the luncheon. Her stomach was beginning to protest.

"I hope no-one got hurt though! Y'know...I don't think I've ever seen your room here actually." The words came out of her mouth quicker than she could register them and a deep blush spread across her face. "Not that I need to see it! I don't! I was just a bit curious about how the great Hercules would decorate his room..." She trailed off, hoping he wouldn't take what she'd said the wrong way.

“No, nobody got hurt. Apo was hurt cause of the kitchen and how beautiful it was before, so that’s why I paid for it to be remodeled. To make up for the damage done to his beautiful kitchen.” The Boy Wonder became lost in thought for a few moments, thinking about how much that set him back. Maybe that was why they were low on funds now. Not necessarily the costs of living but not enough money to make up for the rent. On that note, Hercules may have to do a new 12 labors series soon. To get some money. He had to start pulling his weight. Couldn’t just party with his peeps all day every day.

As he went down on that tangent, Hebe mentioned his room. He heard her say ‘your room’ and then paid attention. “Oh my room?” He totally didn’t heard everything she said. “We can totally go to my room. Everything in here is all fine, so no need to stay!”

Without warning, Hercules had grabbed Hebe’s hand, albeit as gently as he could but still with a level of excitement that fueled his immediate impatience. He heard her say something, but it didn’t matter. He was on a roll. They made their way out of Mel’s room. Herc didn’t give either of them enough time to shut off the light so it was left on. His overwhelming strength made it possible to basically drag Hebe with him as they went down the stairs, took a few turns through the halls, and in record, time they were in his room.

“Here it is~” He announced with a wide grin. His room was pretty spacious and probably not at all what most expected the great Hercules, Boy Wonder and The Divine Protector, to call his room. There was a fireplace for those cold Seattle nights. On a built-in shelf right by the entrance were pictures of him with the Acrobros: Dio whenever he was in town (though occasionally Herc would go to LA to visit), Apollo, and a few others. There were also pictures of some outtakes from 12 labors. But at the center, there was a picture of Hebe and Herc. The last time they were…a thing more than friends, that picture was one of his most treasured ones. It was at the center.

“So what do you think? Not too shabby, right? Biggest room in the crib!” Hercules was definitely trying to impress her. He hoped it was working. He didn’t always have the opportunity to show off for someone as close to him as Hebe.

Hebe, knowing better than to resist, allowed herself to be pulled along by Herc, laughing lightly as they went. Her eyes widened almost comically as they entered the room. Though many of the gods lived in luxury accommodation, she hadn't expected Herc to choose something so...so bougie. Not that it was a bad thing. It was just very different from what she was used to. "Wow, it's so nice!" She commented. "I think this is bigger than my entire apartment. And quieter. And less drafty."

She quietly made her way around the room, stopping in front of the photographs, looking at each one in turn. Eventually she reached the one of the pair of them. "It's me!" Hebe exclaimed, a bright smile painting her face as she turned towards him. "I remember that day. Didn't we get super lost just after this was taken?" She felt a twinge of something looking at the photo, maybe sadness or just nostalgia. It wasn't like things were so different between them back then compared to now, but still…

“And me too!” Hercules joined in immediately after Hebe, smiling as she smiled at the photo. He thought about that day even before she mentioned it. They were at some big ass zoo when that picture was taken. Hercules had a long list of fond memories with Hebe. Whether it was on Mount Olympus and he was charming and winning her over with tales of his adventures, new and old (much to the displeasure of her mother), Hercules would never forget that bright smile she always had on her face. The smile she had right now. The smile that always made anything bad that was happening not seem as dark. Especially when Hera forced those twelve trials on him and damn Zeus did nothing to stop it. That made him who he was. That made him into the man he was right now.

And Hebe always admired that. Always loved to hear about those tales.

But he knew sometimes he could be an idiot. Not in the same way others call him an idiot, but occasionally disregarding or taking Hebe for granted. He wasn’t going to do that now. “Yeah we totally did! I think it was by the lion exhibit. I swear I wanted to take that thing on. He was taunting me.” Hercules let out a hearty laugh. The him of old wouldn’t have second-guessed himself to take on a lion. He would have hopped in there and fought the lion like it was the ancient days.

"And get us banned from the zoo? No way! I would've been so sad." The goddess shook her head emphatically as she spoke, though she remained smiling. Hercules may not take everything seriously, and more than occasionally do something that others would perceive as reckless, but that's what Hebe liked about him. Her childhood had been nothing but monotony and to be around someone so spontaneous had been refreshing. She couldn't help but lo--like that he'd always lacked the seriousness of the other Olympians.

"Plus you were kind of staring at him for a while..." She teased gently, poking him in the side. "He probably thought you liked him." Leaning closer towards the photo, she made a purposeful act of pretending to look at it more carefully. Said lion was lying in the background, probably enjoying the midday sun. “Oh no, wait...yep, he definitely looks like he was going to eat you!" Clasping her hands behind her back, she straightened her body once more, trying, and somewhat failing, to maintain a serious expression.

“He was mad dogging me!” Hercules huffed defensively. “Which I guess is ironic considering he’s a cat. Granted a very big cat a stare deadlier than my own. Or Pearl’s.” In typical Hercules fashion, he went off on a tangent and tried not to think of the scenario of being eaten by a lion. He would never be able to live it down. Taken out by a big ass kitty. The shame that would bring him!

Hercules then noticed Hebe and raised a brow at her. “You okay? Something wrong with your back? Want me to step on it? I hear that’s good for achy backs.”

"What? Oh no my back's fine thanks..." Hebe trailed off, a small frown of confusion flitting across her face, though she quickly shrugged it off.

"So...who's Pearl?" She continued, trying to act as casual as possible, but wondering whether he was talking about a mortal woman...one with super sharp nails. The idea was slightly terrifying. Hebe tried not to think about it but she was well aware that the boys at Acropolis slept with more people in a month than most people would in a lifetime. She knew the other gods thought her innocent and maybe she was, but she had been raised in the Greek pantheon. It would be foolish to deny what was right in front of her face, even if she desperately wanted to.

An audible ‘oh’ sound came from Hercules’ lips when Hebe inquired about Pearl. “Curious about her, are ya?” He teased. He put his hands on his hips, looking at Hebe and studying her expression. “Can’t say I blame ya. She’s a special girl, that Pearl of mine. Truly one of my favorite people alive on this here earth.” Hercules walked away from Hebe, hoping she’d follow him and went further into his room, closer to his bed. In the back of his mind, he decided to have some fun and got down on all fours, looking under the bed, fitting nearly his entire head under the bed. After a few moments, he looked back at a standing Hebe. “She’s usually hiding right about now. Likes to play some games. A playful little minx, that Pearl.”

Her face fell as Herc spoke, wondering why he had never spoken of this person before. Was it casual or were they dating? Maybe they were engaged! Hebe shook her head, she was being silly. It was nice that he was sharing part of his life with her, that's what friends did. Yet when he stuck his head under his bed, the goddess became utterly confused.

"What-" She opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. "It's nice to have someone that's playful…" Hebe smiled cautiously as she knelt down onto the floor. It was like checking for the monster under your bed at night, she really didn't want to but she knew she had to. Slowly she peered under, long hair pooling around her. There was silence for a few moments before Hebe suddenly let out an animated squeal. Her head popped up once again as she looked up at Herc.

"That's Pearl!? She's…she's SO ADORABLE!" If it was possible for someone's eyes to widen to cartoon size, Hebes did at that moment. "I didn't know you had a cat! Is she a cat? She's pretty big…and fluffy!" She had peaked her head under again as she spoke, watching the animal, though not wanting to get too close lest she scared it.

“Yep, that’s my Pearl!” Hercules spoke like a proud father, which honestly he really was. Pearl was his girl. “She totally loves to hide under my bed when I’m not around. That’s why it’s so high up. She chubby--”

As if she knew what he was going to say, Pearl hissed defensively.

“--My bad, drama queen.” Hercules stuck his tongue out at Pearl and shook his head. “She’s big boned and very fluffy.” He glared at Pearl who was laying on her stomach, looking directly at him and Hebe. Her ears were down, so she wasn’t on guard. “She is very temperamental. I swear I don’t know where she gets it.” Herc rambled, looking at Hebe. “Oh yeah, she’s a cat. A caracal cat, actually. Technically, they’re wild cats and probably shouldn’t be kept as a pet, but I couldn’t resist.” He thought about that for a moment. About how dangerous it technically was to have someone like Pearl in a home. She could attack someone. At the same time, she has been around everyone at Acropolis for so long that it wasn’t a big deal. “You wanna pet her?”

“Um…she won’t bite will she?” Hebe responded cautiously, still staring with half amazement and half caution at the animal. If it was anyone else she would have protested against them keeping such a wild creature but Herc had fought a whole lion. And even though she had felt sorry for the poor thing, she also knew that the god could take care of himself. “And I don’t think she’s chubby. She’s just…big boned. I bet she can jump really high, can she?” Her hand moved slowly towards Pearl, stopping in front of her nose so she could sniff her.

“She does bite, but she shouldn’t now. I’m here. Plus, she only bites when she’s hungry.” Herc spent a few moments in silence trying to remember if he fed her today or not. The silence remained as Hercules watched both Hebe and Pearl carefully with one eye on both.

Hebe was rightfully cautious. Pearl wasn’t mean or anything nor was she outrightly violent. Truth be told, Hercules hadn’t completely figured her out, but she was temperamental around new people. And around the Divine Protector, too. He was her father (in a manner of speaking) and she still gave him lip sometimes. So that made him wary for Hebe’s well-being, but Pearl didn’t seem to disapprove when she moved closer. She didn’t seem to flinch and there was even a slight affection that Pearl was displaying. She laid down on all fours, ears were back, and instead of her usual growl-hiss, she was purring, which for a caracal, it was similar to a resting jet ski that was on but not moving. And if that wasn’t the best comparison to Pearl, Hercules didn’t know what was.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see the day, but I think she likes you, Hebe!” Hercules was shocked. Pearl’s temperamental, drama bitch-ass self never liked anyone Hercules brought home. Always hiss this, growl this, ‘I’m gonna bite their face off’ that. But what was happening instead? Pearl was on all fours, purring as if Hebe was the best person in the world (she was). Not even Hercules got that treatment all of the time.

He glared at his cat, mouthing “traitor” to her, to which she purposely ignored. Shrugging it off, he looked at Hebe, nudging her shoulder. “She wants you to pet her.”

Hebe was thoroughly caught up in the joy of being allowed to pet such a cute animal; the purring was, in that moment, the sweetest sound in the world. Sitting on the floor, legs crossed, she reached over to give Pearl a gentle pat on the head. When she realized the caracal was happy with the contact, she began to scratch behind her ear, smiling as the purring reached even higher levels “Wow, I can’t believe she likes me!” She grinned, fingers still moving rhythmically atop Pearl's fur, “Maybe I smell like food or something…” Hebe paused, “Not that I smell like cat food…that’d be weird…” She trailed off, shaking her head at the idiotic word vomit which she always seemed to spew around Hercules.

“I can’t believe it either!” Hercules spoke with some genuine shock, looking at how neutral, almost looking content, as Hebe ran her small, dainty fingers atop the golden fur of his caracal. Pearl was this feisty, temperamental drama queen who was so bitchy to him when he didn’t feed her when she thought it was dinner time, yet she was a soft, pet-able, almost fourty pounds of golden-brown puddy. With everyone else, she was trying to rip their asses off their bodies.

On her mention of possibly smelling like cat food, Boy Wonder shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry that’s not it. Pearl’s diet is almost exclusively Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck--” He chuckled at his phrasing. “I mean, rabbit and duck meat.” He looked at Pearl who side-eyed him as he mentioned her diet. Of course she would have food on the mind. Fatass! “So, by process of elimination, she really likes ya!”

Hebe nodded happily. "I'm glad! I would've been so sad if she'd hated me." She looked up at Herc, soft brown eyes roaming over his face, always finding comfort in the familiarity of his features. "You must be a good owner, she seems very happy." Hebe had never considered Hercules someone who would enjoy having a pet but it suited him. A lot. It was pretty sweet really.

She paused for a moment, looking unsure of herself and not really knowing how to ask what she wanted to ask. "Would-would it be okay if I came over again sometime? Just to pet and play with her I mean. I wish I could have my own pet but work just keeps me so busy…"

“Oh yeah totally!” Boy Wonder stated without even thinking. Even after he realized it, he didn’t take it back nor would he. “I know Pearl would love that. And, I’d love it too! Sometimes people are gone when I’m here, so…you know, the company would be nice. For..both of us. You could even take Pearl to your place if you wanted to…”

And there went his mouth. Hercules typically had a bad habit of letting it run too long. In most cases, he would usually retract it completely but he didn’t feel like doing that right now. If he was being honest with himself, having Hebe around more often wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to Acropolis.

As he smiled, the air was thick with a tension of his own making. He looked at Pearl and she was laying down, more content than he’d ever seen her. It warmed his Godly heart that she seemed so relaxed around Hebe. It was nice. He liked…whatever this was. But then suddenly, he heard a loud bang.

“What was that?” Boy Wonder’s attention was immediately at the source of the noise, at his door.

And immediately, Pearl jumped up. She hissed, growled defensively and the noise continued, getting louder and louder to the point where Pearl dipped out of Hercules’ room through the window. “Well there she goes.” With a sigh, Hercules stood up and looked at Hebe. “Better go see what all the commotion is.” In the pit of his stomach, Hercules had an off feeling. Like something was on the horizon that he wasn’t anticipating. “Let’s go, Hebe!”

[AlteredTundra]

curiouser & curiouser

_{location: The Olympic Club
interactions: Athena | Heimdall | Xipe Totec
mentions: The Death Family | Artemis | Hati}

---

Heimdall could barely believe his eyes as he looked down at that graphic scene before him. Two divine children laid dead in a broken bloody pile as if they were mortals. He felt a chill go down his spine as his mind began to race through the possibilities that this could lead to. Not only was it bad enough that the victims in this scenario were Greeks, but they were the children of Hades and Persephone. Though Heimdall had never met them personally, the few stories he had been told by Athena cleared all doubt of how they would respond.

Heimdall crouched down, his eyes shining just a bit as he observed the bodies as best he could. Though the large amount of blood covered the finer details he was still able to make out some obvious facts. One was that Zagreus had put up a fight before being killed, the other detail was that the two children had been dead long before they ever touched the ground. Heimdall's eyes grew wide however as he noticed a small detail hidden on their body, there was a small clean cut like one left by a knife or blade of some kind. Heimdall looked up to the shattered skylight for a brief moment before standing and walking away from the scene. ‘I need to find Athena and fast’

His walk around the event was a long and purposeful one. One filled with scanning everyone who entered and exited, of the mortals and divine alike. It was easy to fall into a sense of… boredom when attending the Festivals Hera hosted yearly. Nothing exciting going on, enough to hold his attention at least. But it wasn't necessarily entertainment Xipe sought while stalking through the throng of bodies, rather someone. Xōchi had announced she would attend and yet he wasn't able to spot her. And when the bodies fell from the sky like the first heavy raindrops of a summer storm, he felt fear for the first time, believing one to be her.

After statements were made, divinities leaving after being dismissed he noticed Heimdall searching the scene; he would wait until they needed his expertise. They always did. Taking a glass of champagne and sipping it slowly he made his way to the bodies laying at his feet. Pools of blood stemmed from the young before his eyes, like roots of a weed it spread along the ground beneath them. His golden gaze sharp, examining the substance at a crouched level. Unlike other cases that had come across his desk, he would need to think with the mind of a killer. A simple enough task for Xipe Totec.

When his gaze turned up to look about the room, still bustling with too many bodies for his liking, he noticed that Heimdall was making his way towards the Wisdom goddess. _{'They would be spilling what they know soon enough,'} he thought to himself and snatched up a few pieces of broken glass; a makeshift slide for him to use and examine at a later time.

Athena had returned to the scene of the crime and it was definitely a slow process, but progress was being made. She had the blood from the bathroom and she spotted Xipe Totec near the bodies of her cousins who were still laying motionless on the ground. She didn’t have much of an opinion on him but she didn’t trust him enough with the vile of blood that was in her purse. This would need to be kept in-house.

“Heimdall,” she greeted him, casually glancing around the ballroom. “Any updates?”

“No way it was an accident. Beside even the setting and the falling part, the boy had scarring on his knuckles from a fight. My guess would be an altercation with the perp.” Heimdall paused for a second as he looked across the room seeing that the grieving Hades and Persephone had already been escorted out of the building. “Whoever did this, did it to send a message to your uncle and aunt.” Heimdall paused for another moment before turning back to face the goddess of wisdom. “How about on your end?”

“That’s what I deduced as well.” Athena hummed, seemingly to agree with what Heimdall had deduced on his own. Did Artemis tell him about the blade yet? Probably not. Not much time had passed and that was the sort of thing to tell when there weren’t so many ears that could hear of it. Athena wanted to divulge it now, but now wasn’t the time.

She sighed out far more dramatically than she thought she might. “Unfortunately it’s not anything good. Anteros was distraught but not for reasons pertaining to the case. Apparently Pothos is missing. I was actually on my way over here to tell you--” Athena was cut off mid-sentence as she spotted the usually-snake-like Xipe, who always had a habit of slithering behind people appear out of nowhere behind Heimdall. Her partner hadn’t noticed but she did and the wisdom goddess folded her arms over her chest, glaring at him but decided to say nothing as her eyes said enough.

Like a second shadow Xipe was there, hands in his pocket as he observed and listened to the goings on between the detectives. A type of social hierarchy going on between them, and if Xipe was any kind of mortal that wallowed in his feelings too much, he might have even been hurt by the clear and blatant exclusion he was feeling. But he wasn’t and he didn’t. He stood there, head held high, although his laidback and relaxed posture spoke volumes of someone with other thoughts on their mind.

“Seems as though this is more than just death... targeted individuals, perhaps?” His eyes danced, the muscles around his lips twitching up into a small smile, “I would think that because it was their first time back into the world of the divine, they would have been the best ones to off. And in such a fashion as they did? Tsk. The craftsmanship of the wounds and… display of their bodies could use a bit of work.” The way he spoke, like a master of their craft critiquing the works of a novice. So haughty and with distaste. Except, Xipe wasn’t upset about it, rather he saw the potential and wished to inform the killer of all the points they missed.

He didn’t know the Children of Death all that well, hell, he only really met Melinoë - an interaction he enjoyed. Having a domain over madness must be thrilling. Xipe was clearly only there for a few reasons; his affinity with blood would help - or at least they think so, and he was drawn into the commotion a pair of dead divinities offered. Truly a delightful end to what could only have been boring in comparison. “Do tell us though, Athena,” he dragged out, circling the pair of them like a vulture, “What is the significance of your niece’s disappearance? Clearly it wasn’t the killer, otherwise she'd be as dead as the others." Xipe couldn't choose between hiding his enthusiasm and looking unfazed by the whole situation, but with everything unfolding before him he was finding the latter very difficult.

Athena could never place it, but there was always something so unnerving about Xipe. His unwarranted commentary about the specific way bodies were carved up, the odd excitement he always seemed to show when talking about fatal blows, and just his energy rubbed the wisdom goddess the wrong way. That’s why she didn’t want to tell him everything she found out. She wasn’t even going to tell Heimdall everything. She was simply going to inform him of the updates that happened on her end. She wanted to take this opportunity to inform Heimdall about the norse sword, but Xipe was the last person she wanted to be privy to that knowledge.

Athena hated to admit it, but there was some merit to his questions. Pothos, to her knowledge, was not as connected to the murder of Hades’ and Persephone’s children. The crime scenes were different, as well. Zagreus and Macaria were murdered in a dramatic fashion. Intended to create a scene. Pothos was taken, presumably in the bathroom amidst the chaos. “She was taken in the bathroom - the one I just came from. Blood everywhere. There was a struggle. Not sure if it was god or mortal.” Athena knew she had to be careful with her answers and what pieces of information she wanted Xipe to be aware of (for a myriad of reasons). “Perhaps a stalker? Someone following her and used the disarray of the murders to take her?” Athena thought out loud, more for Xipe’s benefit. Indulging him in this may satisfy him enough so that he would stop digging.

Heimdall felt a small chill run down his spine at the way Xipe described the bodies and their injury almost as if he was a judge or a displeased instructor. Even being a Norseman Heimdall had standards when it came to such things. Sure he and his kinsmen had killed plenty but they usually had an honor about it rather than whatever atrocity this was. There was no sense of honor or reason to this killing, more like that of a serial killer or just a deranged madman. Of course though it could never be that simply as now a person had gone missing.

Though he could feel the tension between them, Athena and Xipe made good points about the kidnapping being unrelated to the murderers, in a direct sense anyway. “We should make sure everyone else is accounted for in some capacity. The last thing we need is more people to show up missing with everything going on. Especially on the off chance that this all is connected.”

His face contorted into that of a twisted grin. A Cheshire cat who caught a taste of the cream; as it were. "A stalker, hm?" He toyed with the words in his mouth, as if they were something new and delicious he was trying out for the first time. Weighing how it sounded before he spoke more on the thought. "Perhaps. Though, safe to say that whoever it was doesn't want her dead. Just gone. Might have even posed a threat she didn't know she possessed herself."

Xipe halted his firing of the two, nodding along with what Heimdall said, about checking on everyone's whereabouts and cross referencing them; that was more their style. The Flayed One simply sought out for himself, to gain answers for what he needed - not what others desired. It's worked out for him well so far. This time would be no different. Though this tine, he supposed, if he wanted to be kept in the loop he would need to play nice with his fellow immortals.

"Before I go, have you thought that maybe with her absence it was a ploy to pull attention away from one thing only to throw it at another?" He hummed aloud as if to prove a point. "There are many a people who have quite the scandalous history with Ares. It wouldn't be too far a stretch to believe this was done in a way to get to him," and without another word, the Aztec turned on his heel and began to make his exit, waving back towards his colleagues, a wicked grin on his face, hand in his pockets, encircled around the blood slides there.

When Xipe was gone, Athena sighed out, a mixture of relief, tension, and ire built up. She never liked him, but his talents were useful. That didn’t make her feel any better when he was close to her, but she recognized he had his uses. “As much as I hate to admit it, Xipe has a solid point. Pothos being taken could be something that may be used to target my brother.” There were too many angles to consider, but she knew that was one she could certainly handle for herself. Of course, this meant talking to Ares, which, of course, was never something she was keen on doing.

“But Heimdall, there is another matter we need to discuss. Not here, though. Let’s go somewhere… more secluded. There is a matter I need to discuss with you.” Athena started walking, looking back momentarily to make sure that Heimdal was following.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Heimdall could a small part of the tension leave the atmosphere with the departure of Xipe as he heard his partner let out a held breath. While Athena spoke to him about her brother, Heimdall nodded along, understanding the hesitation she had about talking to him. He could understand where the wisdom goddess was coming from in that regard, from the bits that she had told him about her past in Olympus, her and Ares had a strained relationship at best. If he was being honest it wasn't too far off from his own relationship with his brothers or his own father for that matter. Heimdall quickly threw out those thoughts once he heard Athena asking him to move to a more private area for whatever she needed to explain next.

With a slightly concerned look on his face he nodded and followed behind her. As they continued to walk further and further away from the main plaza where the guests were gathered, Heimdall began getting a sinking feeling in his gut. Finally their journey came to a stop once Athena had led him up the roof far away from any possible listener and by the looks of it where the bodies came crashing from above. Heimdall could feel something bad was coming, rarely had he ever seen Athena like this before, of course she was always serious about her work, but this was something that exceeded that.

Athena didn’t like to waste any time and less so when it was about something important. As much as she had wanted to talk about why she was leading her partner away from the main plaza and to the top of the skylight on the roof where the bodies had originally fallen from, she couldn't risk it, especially if Xipe had suddenly decided he was going to follow them. And for that reason, she needed to wait until they were alone.

“I do apologize for the over dramatic silence, Heimdall. It is not who I am. I like to get to the point, so I’ll spare you any more of it.” With a deep sigh, Athena came out with it. “During the investigation, particularly when I came to the roof at the request of both Hati and Artemis, which of course they put me in charge of the investigation. I’m not complaining. They know I’m really the only one for the job, but there was a weapon found at the scene of the crime. Right over there--” She gestured to the skylight, “--A weapon of Norse origin: Dáinsleif. It was the sword that killed my cousins.” Athena stood with arms crossed, feeling both anger at that fact and some apprehension. She didn’t know much about that blade other than it was norse and a formidable blade.

Heimdall paused for a second as he thought about what Athena had just said. If this truly was the work of a Norse blade then it was no wonder she wanted this to be kept in secrecy. “I haven't seen that sword in a long time. The last time I saw it I was still the watchman and that sword was still on the hip of its original owner.” Heimdall paused for a moment as he thought back to the days of old trying to think of the best way to explain what the blade was. “Well it's no ordinary sword that is for sure. It was forged long ago by the dwarfs and placed with both a curse and a blessing. The sword was said to never to miss its target, but if the blade is ever pulled from its scabbard it must cause bloodshed.”

Heimdall took a second allowing the information to settle with Athena as he took a few steps closer to the skylight that had been broken. Paring down he could still see the broken bodies of the two children lying lifeless on the tile floor looking up at him. Nodding slightly as a sign of respect to the dead Heimdall turned around to look back at Athena. “What worries me most however is the fact that they simply left that thing here. Besides trying to start a war between our houses, I don't want to imagine what they could have that could match that in power.”

Athena stood pensively, listening to every word her partner spoke about the sword and about what it could do. He described it as a blessing and a curse. Athena could see why that was so. A weapon like that was sure to bring great victory in battle. Athena had only what Heimdall told her and the little information she had beforehand about it, which wasn’t much. She didn’t know about it having a curse - only the name, origin, and rumors. These rumors were nothing compared to this sword causing death anytime it was unsheathed.

“Heimdall, what kind of hold does this sword take over who holds it? Is there anything else you can tell me about this sword. How does the curse work?” Seldom did Athena find her without the answers, but as much knowledge as Athena has about weaponry, about strategy, and about most things war-related, she is not Ares. She hated to give her brother any props, but the fact was that this was bordering on being out of her wheelhouse. She is not so desperate to seek him out…despite having her own reasons of needing to speak with him.

“That's about as far as my knowledge goes unfortunately. I don't remember anything about controlling people or how exactly it worked. All I know is that we are dealing with a weapon on the same level as my fathers spear or my brother's hammer. It never misses and is magical like the others as well” He paused for a moment as he looked at Athena, his face still holding a serious look with the slightest bit of worry mixed in. “So what is going to be our next move then partner? Cause i agree that this needs to be kept on a need to know basis or else a war is going to break out between our houses and lines are going to be drawn.” Though he dreaded the idea and believed they could solve this before time ran out, Heimdall couldn't help but get a dark feeling looming over them that threatened to tear both their pantheons asunder

“I was afraid you would say that.” By all Gods that she knew about, she dreaded this more than any potential war that may break out. Athena was hoping there was some secret Norse knowledge that Heimdall, the Watcher, would know of, but it seems this blade was one that had a reason to be feared. Whatever secrets it held was out of reach of not one, but two intelligent deities. That part angered Athena the most. The fact that, between Heimdall and herself, the most they put together was that Dainslief was of Norse origin and when it was unsheathed, it needed to taste blood. And that it can kill what is divine. The most dangerous fact of it all.

“Our next move is simple: solve it before another life is lost.” Athena had the habit of speaking arrogantly about impossible-to-solve cases. Particularly when the clues were nowhere in sight. “I know it won’t be easy, but between us, Artemis, and even that bothersome wolf, Hati, I have a feeling the pieces to this puzzle will reveal themselves somewhere. Until then, we work it like any other case.”

Xipe stood at the entrance of the roof, listening intently to the detectives. A mysterious, god-tiered weapon used against the divine? How inconvenient. This posed some real issues to his kind and though he wasn’t opposed to death and the natural - or unnatural - cycle of life, this was anything but welcomed. Especially seeing as how there could be more out there. There was no way a person as twisted as this would halt after just two kills. No. With the reaction it’s garnering, they will want more. Xōchiquetzal flashed across his mind and in one fell swoop he was descending the stairs, two at a time, cell phone already to his ear and dial tone playing on a loop.

[KZOMBI3]

---

P A R T Y T I M E

_{location: the Acropolis
interactions: Apollo@smarty0114 | Comus | Eros | Hebe | Herc@metanoia | Mel | Phobos@Danvers | Xōchi@Aewin
mentions: EVERYONE}

---

Apollo yanking Chaos into a hug was something she hadn’t realized she needed until it happened. His words were dark, though his tone was light and it was those kinds of moments where Coco knew things were not all that they seemed. It was no secret that she heard voices, dealing with internal demons on the regular - at least pre-Fall Coco did. A generational curse passed down from her dear old dad. So to say that she could spot in others the act of hiding the unbalance, was something she was hardly ever wrong on.

Regardless, they were here, now. It had been far too long since she looked upon the faces of those she most enjoyed causing mayhem with. Coco nudged him in the ribs once she was set down, laughing at the way his body curled in on itself only slightly. “Only the most interesting, but only if you can keep up~!”

Eros watched the pair embrace, an unreadable expression on his face. "So kind of you Apollo..." He finally answered simply in response to the proclamation that he was welcome to stay. Well yes, considering he lived there, he would expect so. His relationship with the sun god had always been tenuous since the Daphne incident. An incident that had been entirely hilarious. He tried to hide the smile that tugged at his lips, amused by the fond memory. Before he could say anything that would likely get him into trouble however, his attention was thoroughly diverted. One would have thought he had regained the ability of flight with the speed to which he shot over to the bottom of the stairs, slinging an arm over the newcomers shoulder and drawing them close.

"Brother!" He chimed eagerly, eyes twinkling with an air of mischievousness. "What are you doing here? And why were you upstairs? Do tell all, have you--" Before he could finish his sentence however he was pushed aside. "Not how you should greet family Phobos." Eros huffed, though his demeanor still remained lighthearted, the act clearly just for show.

"I'm leaving." The darker haired son of Ares muttered, looking both incredibly uncomfortable and incredibly pissed off. He moved to skirt around his sibling but Eros quickly stepped to block his way once more, ignoring the waves of displeasure that were radiating towards him. It was always a fine line that he tread with Phobos but one that he had learnt how to master. Sort of.

"Oh no, you must stay. Mustn't he Comus...Xōchi?" He grinned, turning to look back at his friends.

“Yes, you must.” Xōchiquetzal agreed, moving over to join Eros while blocking the door with a flirtatious smile and raised eyebrow. “You wouldn’t want to leave when we’ve only just gotten here-” She gestured between herself and Comus.

She regarded his expression carefully, the smile never leaving her face. The uncomfortableness was oozing off him like the scent of a rotten flower, something was up. “Come, relax with us, dearest Fear.” She stepped forward, her hand slipping past his in order to link them by the elbows, another hand resting comfortably on his bicep.

The wicked grin that graced Comus' face only widened as Fear was locked between herself and the Aztec flower. A wonderful sense of chaos brewing in the space around them, swirling up from the ground as if trying to swallow them whole. A delicious over interest in what was to come tickling the forefront of her mind and causing a giggle to escape, "Oh yes indeed~ relax. Spend time with us! It has been much too long!" She stood on the opposite side of Phobos and mirrored Xōchi's pose, linking her arm with his, leading him back away from the door and back in towards the main room of the mansion.

"As lovely as it is to see you Xōchi, I really ca-" Phobos trailed off as Comus took his other arm, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at her. "Oh so you aren't dead. Deimos will be happy." He replied sullenly, entirely unhappy with the situation he had found himself in. Eros, who had been carefully keeping a few steps back, looked like the cat who had gotten the cream. What an idiot. He was going to kill him, no-one would mind a third death surely. Or at the very least no-one would notice for a while...

"You never explained why you were here, little brother." Eros grinned, interrupting the gods thoughts as he took to pacing around the trio like an overexcitable puppy, eyes passing over the three in turn. "I'll make you if you don't!" Though his words could, and should, probably be taken as a threat, it was difficult to tell with the way they were so playfully spoken.

Fear sighed, knowing it would not do to ignore Eros for too long. "I was just helping Melinoë get home. Her siblings were killed today if you hadn't heard..."

“Oh, we heard.” Xōchi said. “But that’s why we’re here, to uplift our spirits and all.” Xōchi didn’t sound very convinced by her own words, but shrugged it off regardless. Now was not the time to mope.

Instead, Xōchi was more interested in fun. ““So, Mel lives here too? With you?” She probed Phobos curiously.

"Sounds… exhausting~," Comus chimed in as if the entire interaction was choreographed beforehand. "How do you manage to not tear each other's throats out?"

"I don't live here." Phobos responded bluntly, carefully easing his arm out of the Aztecs' grasp. Coco was clung on much more tightly. "You've been to my place Xōchi--" He paused, realizing what he had just said. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his brother's smile widen enough to compete with the likes of the Cheshire cat.

"Oh~?" Coco grinned wide enough to match Eros' own, her voice rising higher and higher and it wasn't just for the sake of excitement. "Has she now? Do tell, what's the reason for that? Last I checked you two have very little in common by way of domains." Her grip on his arm only constricting more with each word.

Xōchi’s pout went unnoticed due to Phobos’ blunder, but instead her expression changed from that of disappointment from being pulled away from to one of pure delight. “That I have, dearest Fear. Silly me, how could I forget that wonderful night?” She shrugged lightly.

“I wouldn’t protest if you did forget…” The god muttered. Not that it had been a bad night, quite the contrary. But it was exactly this reason that made him hesitant to have dalliances with other deities. He could feel irritation pushing against the wall of tiredness, and it was oh so tempting to just tap into their fears. Instead, he finally prised his arm from Coco's grip, flexing his shoulder joint in relief. “Though I’m surprised you haven’t. You and Eros must have slept with the entire city of Seattle by now.”

Eros let out a loud laugh at this proclamation. “I’m getting there! One mortal at a time…or sometimes three…or four…or five.” He pondered happily, clearly proud of his achievements.

Apollo smirked as his friends and extended family teased one another, his mood softened now by jokes and drink and company. “Don’t be embarrassed, Phobos. It’s hardly a flattering look on you,” Apollo said as he poured himself a shot. He sent the drink down and clapped his hands twice, filling the home with the sounds of Swedish Europop. Apollo was having an ABBA phase tonight. “Someone dance with me. You’re all making me quite jealous, flirting so blatantly in my house.”

Comus nearly tackled the sun god as soon as the music came on. "I've missed this~!" Her screams filled the large space carrying up over the loud bass reverberating through the house towards the upstairs.

Screams of glee, coupled with the abundance of loud music and shattering ceramics, pulled Melinoë from her new room, a scowl on her lips and dried tear tracks on her cheeks. "What the shit is going on?"

Tilting her head backwards in such a way would have made mortals fear her neck was broke, Comus searched the banister looking for the goddess to match the voice. Once she locked in she squealed with a fake enthusiasm for the newest arrival, "Melly! You're here~!" A quick glance towards her cohorts before back to Madness had her giggling, "Come join us in having fun!"

Melinoë could only glare at the revelrous spirit dancing with Apollo, before catching her quick glance towards Phobos standing so close with Xōchi - a fire boiling her blood, "I'm not in the mood, Coco," her words like venom, "Don't know if you heard from whatever rock you've been under. There's been some deaths–"

"Oh, yeah, no. I heard. Sorry for your loss or whatever. But hey! I'm back! We should celebrate that, and their long lives lead or something…" Comus rolled her eyes and continued swaying to the beats, throwing her arms around Apollo's neck here and there.

Apollo glanced between Comus and Mel, not quite so oblivious as to miss the simmering tension. “You know how we are Mel. Wash away the pain and all that jazz. Come have a drink,” Apollo said. He swayed to the music with Comus, grinning like the emotionally inept, fallen god that he was.

Out of the wood-works and with Hebe at his side, no less (or at least Hercules thought she was), came the Boy Wonder himself. At first when Hercules heard the noise, he got curious and Pearl had run off out of the house (per the usual with her and sudden noise), so what else was he to do but go find the source of it. He heard a voice he thought he recognized but in his moment of rushing to the main foyer, Hercules didn’t have enough mental energy (he rarely had any to begin with) to spare to figure out where he heard it from. It’s not like he would need to because when he got to the foyer, all confusion left his body as he naturally started to unknowingly rock his body to whatever music Apollo put on.

“Someone say party--” In the midst of speaking, his eyes went wide, jaw hung low, and a typical Hercules overreaction was in progress. “COMUSSSSS! IT’S YOU! YOU’RE ALIVEEEEEE!”

The words of the god of heroes rung throughout the open space. A greeting to top all greetings. Acropolis had begun to buzz with an air of anticipation, as it always did before any party. The residents quickly slotted into their usual roles, excitable & frantic as ever. But Eros had uncharacteristically remained put, attention thoroughly & completely diverted. Green eyes flickered between madness and fear, expression unusually solemn and thoughtful. How had he failed to notice this? Had he lost his touch? No, that was a preposterous idea…of course he hadn't! It must be something new then…

With raised arms and a squeal to match Herc's own, she ran to tackle the Laboring Hero, wrapping around him like a koala - just for good measure. "Looking forward to wiping the floor with you in drinking~ but first we dance!" It was easy enough to pull him to the makeshift dance floor with Apollo and herself. Smelly Melly was still brooding upstairs and two thirds of her trio were standing off to the side, admiring the scene before them - whispering little nothings to one another. Things that were to be set in motion.

“Xōchi, I need you darling~” Eros cooed as he suddenly snapped out of his trance, turning towards the goddess, casually slinging his arms around her neck from behind, head resting atop her shoulder. “Tell me, what happened when you kissed my dear brother?” He whispered as if to a lover, only a subtle tug at the corners of his lips betraying his underlying thoughts.

The noise levels of the Acropolis were growing at an exponential rate, one which Madness never accounted for. Sure, she was down to have fun, but with the day she's had it was the furthest thing from her mind. Top it all off seeing Phobos and Xōchi so familiar and close with one another and Apollo and Comus with their... infectious carefree attitudes - it was starting to get to her. She didn't know which it was, maybe a combination of the two, or something different entirely, but she found herself down amongst the others in no time, gliding onto the scene silent as a ghost. Immediately taking from the wet bar there and downing the first bottle within reach.

Manic eyes flashed with excitement as Comus continued to dance with the Sun, "Finally! Welcome to the party Melly!" This was going to be an interesting night for sure.

Xōchi’s eyes followed Madness, joining the party looking like she had lost someone - which, yeah okay she did, but why the glum face when her Fear was right here? The Aztec goddess rolled her eyes at the melodrama before leaning conspiratorially close to Eros in turn. “Sparks flew, my love~ I formed quite the beauty. She was almost comparable to me.” Xōchi flicked her hair, the flower scented shampoo filling the air around her. Then, with her eyes trained between Melinoë and Phobos, feigning easiness as she continued but louder. “I still remember the way Phobos touched me after I kissed him, oh, he has such a good grip. The type that sends tingles everywhere~”

The love of god smiled wickedly as his friend spoke. "Oh really?" He purred, something dangerous and uncontained creeping into his voice. Around his partners in crime he was unable to resist such delicious temptations. "Shame I missed out. Perhaps-" He glanced over at his brother who, although glaring intensely at the pair of them, had not made any moves to shut them up. "Perhaps you could...oh I don't know," He swished a hand as if the thought had only just popped into his head, "...recreate the experience?"

“Interesting idea, I’d be more than happy to… recreate that evening.” Xōchi stepped away from Eros, moving towards Phobos. Her hips swayed to an imaginary beat, each step slow and purposeful and with a look that screamed interest and seduction on her face. Her arms touched Phobos’ shoulder, squeezing lightly and following the muscles of his arms. “What do you think, dearest Fear. Interested in another demonstration?”

His jaw clenched at her approach. "Far from it." He muttered, "I know better than to get involved in any of your games." The son of Ares felt dark swathes of irritation coiling in his stomach and his gaze was an icy stare as he reached a hand to gently but firmly take a hold of her forearm. Phobos pulled her close enough that their breath intermingled, only inches between them lest the others overhear. "And I can't think of many reasons you would have to further upset a grieving goddess. Unless..." He paused, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. "You're jealous?"

Melinoë wasn’t deaf, she could hear the cackling of the bewitching beauty and a sense of self consciousness washed over her in that moment though it was quickly doused out to make room for the seething ire at witnessing her touching Phobos. She shouldn’t care. Really shouldn’t. It’s not her place. He is a man grown and can take care of himself the same as she can defend herself from pompous flowers in a wilting garden. She wasn’t entirely sure what the cause of their issue was, but it was making the ending of this day even more difficult to bear. She could see the intent behind the eyes of Aztec Aphrodite. Alluring and mischievous. Devious purpose in her words and actions.

Rolling her eyes and taking another large gulp of whatever liquor she could find she stalked over towards the two of them, still intermingled with one another and too close for her liking. Madness gripped at the fabric of Phobos’ suit and whipped him back to face her, glaring daggers at the goddess before her, "We are not here for your games, πόρνη,” her words were biting and she cared not if she offended the flower princess.

Comus watched from her spot on the makeshift dance floor, where she observed the threesome off in the corner - Eros not too far off looking like a voyeur. The thought alone made her chuckle. It seemed they were keeping things pretty tame but it was a bore to watch it take so long to come to fruition. This wasn’t what was planned and Coco wasn’t having it. Patience is a virtue, one that she does not possess. “Excuse me a moment~,” she sang, sashaying her way towards them.

“What’s going on over here?!” Her boisterous self and erratic dance moves could be easily passed off as just Comus and it was because of that mentality that she was counting on to save her, should this go wrong. Things were going to happen, whether anyone wanted it or not. She collided into the remaining Death child, sending her crashing into Fear, their bodies and lips pressed together. “Oops~” The Cheshire grin she wore said otherwise.

The two collided and Phobos pulled Melinoë close against him, instinct driving him to stop her from falling, not wanting to see madness hurt in any way. Or no more than she already had been. He felt fury and irritation and exhaustion reaching its peak within him, only to be silenced as their lips touched. There was nothing for a moment as his fingers moved to flex around the back of her neck, holding her protectively...possessively. The calm was only breached by a feeling he did not recognise but he pushed it down, daring her instead to pull away if she wished to.

A feeling washed over her, one she never thought she would experience again after so long. Melinoë melted into the embrace and clung to him like a life force, refusing to pull away from him.

When she didn't, he pressed forwards to deepen their accidental kiss, tightening his grip around the hair at the base of her head. It was all he could do to hold on and hope that she did not hate him. He would not be shocked if she did but that did not mean that he wished for it. Mels body was warm against his own and he made it so there was no space between them, nothing could be close enough for his liking and it was frustratingly so. The god would have kept going, giving little care or heed to the presence of anyone else in the room. Yet...a familiar giggle pierced the moment. Phobos let out a low growl as he finally pulled back, shooting daggers at Eros before glancing down at Melinoë once more. "Are you okay?" He said with a frown, a hand still tangled in her hair. His chest moved laboriously, words coming out in little more than a whisper.

Before the daughter of Hades could reply Comus jumped at the opportunity to make some jovial and annoying comment, “Huhuhuu~ I think she’s more than OK,” Coco giggled herself, joining Eros in shattering the moment. Before she could be smacked or receive any form of injury for actions caused intentionally or otherwise, the agent of chaos rushed back to Apollo and Hercules though kept her ears open.

Chaos was followed by love who grabbed hold of Xōchi’s hands and spun her around, laughing brightly all the while. "Phobos and Melinoë sitting in a tree~" He began to sing, too delirious in his excitement to really comprehend what he was doing. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love! Then comes marri--" He spun and spun, until his words were suddenly cut short by a choking grip against his collar and he found himself almost being strangled as he was slammed against the nearest wall.

"P-Phobos get off me you- you goofball…" Eros managed to wheeze out the few words as his fingers tried and failed to find any purchase to hold onto. The only breaths he was able to muster were shallow and his lighthearted expression quickly turned sour when he realised Phobos was not going to let go. His brother lessened his grip enough to allow Eros to take a full gulps of air, blue eyes gazing icily down at him. It scared the god that Phobos was not speaking but he was also annoyed and the older one. This wasn't how it worked between them. So instead he bit down firmly onto his lip, not even grimacing as blood began to pool from the wound. "I think you should go back to Xōchi ~" Eros hummed against his own stained mouth as lust began to seep from the god. It would only be a few moments worth but that was enough.

“Oh my Us, Coco. Not even back a full hour and you’re already creating chaos.” Hercules had a conflicting set of thoughts running through his usually-empty head. Today had been bad enough for Mel, but at the same time, that part of him that loved Coco to death (mostly platonic, of course) also loved watching the chaos she created. He loved it so much that he had joined in on the fun and games, despite the aftermath of Eros getting thrust into the wall.

Wait, no not the wall!

“Hey hey hey!” Hercules called out to dumb and dumber. “Don’t do that.” Breaking apart from the teasing trio, Hercules approached them, though he didn’t want to get too close. “At least take it outside if you want to strangle Eros. We just had this wall repaired from the last party!”

Jealousy was one way to express what Xōchi was feeling. Despite knowing who Phobos’ heart truly yearned for, the Aztec goddess of Love was a selfish bitch that liked knowing she had men and women, gods and goddesses at her fingertips. So, if she were to accept Phobos desiring another, then she sure as hell wanted for something to bloom between himself and Melinoë.

”Come now, Fear, harming your brother won’t change anything.” She had been pushed aside in the chaos that followed Coco, but seeing the state of Eros she had been thankful for it. With her meddling now proven fruitful, it was now time to intervene in the barbaric alpha display Phobos was showing. Xōchi stepped back into the fray, curling a hand around Phobos’ arm to start pulling him away from her Eros, lest he harm his pretty face even more.

The touch of her fingers against his skin pulled the gods' attention away from Eros. The lust was like a heavy haze, like an intoxication too strong to ignore. It clouded his mind and pushed away thoughts of Mel, thoughts of her soft lips and even softer skin. Without a moment's hesitation Phobos had caught Xōchi by the waist, pulling her close as he had done so madness only minutes before. His hands ran up her sides as he kissed her, his movements hungry and wanton. In that moment he wanted no-one else.

One minute, Hercules was too worried about the re-repaired wall and the next Phobos getting it on with Xōchi. “Damn.” Herc didn’t know what he should do. Should he try and stop it? Should he say something like ‘hey not on the wall?’ It looked like they were having fun. Part of Hercules was jealous but the other part worried it was going to get worse before it got better. So he just stood there, as quiet as Boy Wonder could.

The Fates really said, "Fuck you, Melinoe" as she stood there, having been pushed aside for Phobos to strangle Eros. Chaos ensued shortly after. If it wasn't one thing it was another and it all seemed to speed up. There was no time for a break, to catch up. To register what was happening until it had already passed. She just remembers she sauntered back up towards him, touched him. And he moved along with her like a puppet on a string. It was disgusting to watch and had it been any other time, any other person; she might have enjoyed the spectacle - people watching at its finest. But this was her torment. And it wasn't fun.

Carnal lust rolled off of them in waves and it was enough to cloud her vision. Instead of screaming and crying and enacting some kind of petty, wrathful justice, Melinoë turned on her heels and stormed off. Making sure to collide her shoulder into Comus and anyone else unlucky enough to be caught in her path of madness. "Uh, OUCH?!" Coco shouted after her as she rubbed at her shoulder. She turned to gaze back at the scene before them, Xōchi helping herself to seconds on Phobos' front and Eros trying to catch his breath. The two of them locked eyes and it was as if they thought the same thing, _{'It wasn't supposed to go like this...'} But what could they do? Try again? Pfft. Not tonight. Chaos would rather keep whatever is left of her divinity, thankyouverymuch.

[Danvers]

---

𝐵𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝒲𝒶𝓇

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Acropolis
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Phobos | Eros
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Psyche, Melinoë, Xōchi}

---

As the heady haze wore off, his hands dropped away from the Aztec goddess. Phobos felt all the control he had slipping away like water through outstretched fingers. Never, since the fall, had he been so unable to keep ahold of the fear that seeped from him. He found himself shaking with fury. A hand came up to brush his hair away from his face, he knew without looking that Mel had left. Ignoring Xōchi he turned to Eros, roughly taking ahold of the love gods arm. His fingers pressed into the skin hard enough to leave several bruises.

"Pho, come on man. We were just--" Eros laughed nervously, a free hand rubbing his tender neck. His lips were stained red and every so often a droplet of blood fell to the floor, though neither of them noticed. "It was just a joke." He couldn't help but roll his eyes, figuring that Phobos was just overreacting. What could ever be wrong with kissing? He hadn't gotten to kiss anyone for at least an hour. So unfair.

"Shut up." Phobos growled as he pulled his brother outside, ignoring the others. The door slammed shut as the god forced Eros down the expansive set of steps, pushing him away when they met soft ground. Eros stumbled back, his face falling for a moment before his mask quickly slipped back into place. It would not do to appear upset. This wasn't the first time someone had taken his work the wrong way.

"Well if you must hit me, please avoid the face." He said sullenly, wiping some blood away with the back of his hand. "Unlike you, some of us actually care about our appearance. My clients would be so upset if they saw me with a black eye..." He grimaced at the thought of having to look so unkempt, if even for a day. The pain itself did not scare him, he was used to it now and he had to self-inflict it on a near daily basis if he wanted to tap into his powers.

"I'm not going to hit you." Fear rolled his shoulders back, muscles tensing with the movement. Eros paused in a combination of confusion and relief. "...you're not?" He frowned, momentarily perplexed. Sure looked like he was getting ready to hit him...

"No." Phobos smiled predatorily, looking eerily in that moment like his sister. At times it was easy to forget that they were twins and inevitability, opposite sides of the same coin. The fear rolled off him in waves, reaching a hungry hand towards the hesitant form of love. Nowhere near as powerful as it had once been but still strong enough to affect a god. He let it run free, his body relaxing, exhaling what felt blissful to no longer keep at bay. "I was just thinking about Psyche actually..."

Eros tensed as fear spoke, his face falling at the mention of one he never let himself think of. "Don't you dare speak of her..." He muttered, eyes darkening, any last hints of humor washed away by the sound of her name. It was a line that the other deities trod carefully around, no-one truly daring to confront him about it. Well, some had tried in the first few centuries after the fall but that had never ended well.

"Why not?" Phobos neared his brother, placing a hand against his chest and shoving him back, his words cold and smooth. "She's a lovely girl. I do always wonder what she's been up to recently." He paced around the erote as he spoke, trying to ignore how much he loved this. How much he'd missed it. Nothing compared to the fears held by his fellow deities, they were so exquisitely more complex and darker than that of mortals. Most mortals, when it came down to it, simply feared death. "Being such a beauty as well..."

"Shut up Phobos." Eros snapped back, wanting but unable to turn away.

"Maybe shes found someone else to fall in love with." Phobos pulled at the thread of terror hidden deep inside his brother. Fears grip was tight once it decided to take hold and he really did not want to let go. "I bet mortals can't resist her."

Eros saw it. Like a mirage. Psyche surrounded by mortals and gods alike. Bodys entwined. Moans slipping from lips heavy with pleasure. He would've found the imagery a turn on if he wasn't also so horrified. He reached out to touch her but it was just dust in the wind, his fingers tightening over naught but air. He shook his head, eyes closing against the images that came unbidden and unwanted. "Stop it. Stop it now..." Eros tried to yell, though his voice was little more than a groan. It wouldn't stop, it would never stop. It was like a broken amphora. He could try and put it back together but it wouldn't ever fit, so what was the use in trying? There were so many pieces lost, too small to ever find.

"You should be scared dear αδελφός. Why would a human ever truly have fallen in love with such a monster?" Phobos' words dripped with venom, though they were not really his own but the love gods deepest fears spoken aloud. "It must've been the arrows. And now their magic has worn off. Well..." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "She must hate you. For taking her from her family, locking her up in your palace..."

"I didn't--" Eros stammered but fear had taken a grip on his heart and he found he could barely move, barely speak. A tear rolled down a cheek flushed with fury and panic. His hands clenched, nails digging deep enough into his flesh to draw blood but he did not notice. "You--you're wrong." He had to be wrong. He could not face it if he was right.

"Then why do you run from her?"

"You..." Eros pushed back against the paralysing hold on his body. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"There's no point hiding it Eros." Phobos purred, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "I can see everything, every fear, every doubt that's swallowed you up."

The darkness that sometimes enveloped Eros appeared in the corners of his mind. He didn't want to go there again. He couldn't think about it. He wouldn't think about it. Without realising he found himself crouched on the ground, unable to hide from the numbness that had begun to creep up on him, darkening his vision. The tears had stopped and were drying cold against his skin, his fingers clutching uselessly at the dewy grass beneath him. He looked up to see Phobos staring down at him, his expression naught but a blank slate. He found himself wondering what it would like to be a mortal, faced with such a sight in the midst of a battle.

"Stay away from me. Stay away from Melinoë." Phobos muttered as he shook his head, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it quietly. Taking a deep drag, he exhaled a puff of smoke. "I won't play nice next time."