this has me hooked
smarty0114
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Dead inside, but somehow still kicking.
Most Recent Posts
“Love the outfit, Artemis. Green and pink aren’t my colors, but you always had a habit of making things work for you. So enlighten me: who do you think will be the source of most of our future headaches in the immediate future?”
“I do, don’t I?”
A rare smile graced Artemis’ face as Athena arrived beside her, happy to have the company. Her half-sister was often the only member of her pantheon that she could stomach for long. It was rare she found someone more clever than her, and besides, she had no girls to watch over for the day. In the absence of work, she supposed she could let her hair down, just a little.
“Immediate future? I’m sure our wonderful step-mother will push all the buttons that she can by the end of today’s festivities.” Artemis hazarded a glance over to the other side of the room, where her brother was still toying with Melinoe. She rolled her eyes and let them fall on Ares. Brooding as he was, she could not rule him out of any possible trouble. “Though, I suppose one of our brothers will make an effort to upstage her.”
Athena lost her half-smile at the mention of Hera. A complicated relationship, those two had. Some days were tolerable and some days she wished she still had both her Shield of Aegis, which was lost during the crusader days, as well as her full divine powers. There was no proper way to…repay Hera in the weakened state she was. But she couldn’t think about that. It was neither here nor there and she was, at least, in the company of someone who made this obligatory luncheon much more tolerable than if Artemis wasn’t around.
Looking around as Artemis mentioned their brothers, her eyes couldn’t help but fall on Hercules, who she just noticed. “Could always count on the Divine Idiot over there to make things interesting.” She had a fascination with her half-mortal brother, Hercules. She found him annoying but in the way one kept a jester around than a cockroach like she had to assume most saw him.
“Can we blame him? He’s hardly more than a toddler,” Artemis said, swirling her cup gently. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything of interest lately?” Artemis had her hand in a great many pots, and if there was anyone she trusted to aid her, it was the grey eyed Athena. Between searches for their father, keeping tabs on the mortals and their knowledge regarding the existence of the fallen deities, and her own, more personal ambitions, it paid to have a helping hand. Athena was well positioned to hear some interesting whispers, and Artemis loved to gossip.
Athena let out a slight chuckle at the comment Artemis made about Hercules. She agreed, of course, but she found it hilarious because was absolutely right. Athena was fond of Hercules, but he hardly inherited their father’s natural intelligence. That right was reserved for the two goddesses analyzing everything that happened in the ballroom. “Anything interesting, you ask?” Athena hummed, glancing at Artemis. One could say she certainly had something, though Sophia Pellas was urging her not ot say anything. Something about duty and honor, but Athena had to admit, she’s been meaning to get it off her chest and Artemis was, if not anything else, a trusted confidant. Perhaps even someone who could help her out. “Well, I have something you might find interesting. Let me ask you first: what have you heard about a vigilante that goes by The Blue Crusader?”
Artemis snorted. She had never been one for the high drama that putting on a costume and fighting crime required. She preferred to let her prey see her face. “Enough. A few of the girls heard something about one of his nighttime adventures, relayed it back to me. Honestly, I thought it was Apollo. He used to like to play dress up, back in the sixties. The guy sounds a bit too hands on for him though.” Artemis smirked at the distant memory of her brother, clad in spandex. That endeavor had been amusingly short lived.
Athena chuckled at the mere thought that The Blue Crusader could be Apollo. She wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that, but something about the Crusader was that whoever it was, they were careful. Careful enough to not have their identity known to those who they attacked; careful enough that not a simple person even knew what he looked like. “As amusing as it would be to find out that our brother was behind it, you’re right. It’s too hands-on and, to be quite frank with you, Artemis, this Crusader is too smart to be anyone even remotely close to Apollo.” Though her tone was serious, she chuckled again. “But he struck again last night. At the docks in Belltown. Five men were injured, all with several cuts and premature bruises all over their body.”
“Well, that seems to rule out most of our family. Smarts have never been their strong suit,” Artemis said, a wry smile creeping across her face. “Probably eliminates most mortals as well. Useful as they can be, I can’t imagine one of them being able to stump you.” Silver eyes scanned the room, observing each immortal like they were a deer she was tracking. “Have you tried our friends from the north?” Artemis nodded in the direction of Odin and Loki. “This isn’t either of their styles, but Odin can be helpful, if you’re willing to owe him a favor. He does have an annoying tendency to know things.”
Athena mused a sound at the mention of Odin. She had what one might call an interesting history with Odin -- one that Athena would neither call favorable nor unfavorable. Artemis was right, of course. Odin was one of the most knowledgeable deities of their kind. Even if she had not conversed with him in such a manner in quite some time, that much she remembered as clear as the fall of Troy. But she just didn’t agree with Artemis about Odin but how none of those from their own pantheon fit the motive or style. Either too idiotic to not get caught or too arrogant to not want at least someone to know it was them. The Blue Crusader had to be someone both with the humility to not seek fame among their peers and with enough brains to do so without getting caught.
And the longer she thought about it, Athena wasn’t sure if she wanted to know who he was to arrest or congratulate them. It was a perplexing situation for the Greek Goddess of Wisdom, to say the least. “Perhaps I’ll give the Alfather a visit. Not here, of course. Hardly the place to talk about such a sensitive matter. Perhaps after today’s festivities. Surely he could make time for me.” In the back of her mind, Athena dreaded what Aretemis said might come to pass: owing Odin a favor. It didn’t frighten her, but the reputation that the Alfather amassed made her worry.
“Surely if he won’t, you’ll make the time yourself,” Artemis said, flashing Athena her playful smile. “Let me ask you a question now. Have you heard from Hephaestus recently?” Artemis swirled her champagne and slid her eyes across the ballroom. “Girls tell me he’s been seen more and more recently. It’s not like him.” Artemis was a huntress, and she knew that animals, divine or otherwise, did not change their behaviour without reason.
Glancing at Artemis, she hummed in a thoughtful way at the mention of their brother. “Hephaestus?” She repeated back as she thought to the last time she remembered even hearing from her brother. As unfavorable as he was in her opinion, past incidents of their interactions still bearing a rather lasting impression on her, in the years spent among mortals the Goddess of Wisdom has come to soften up on him somewhat. He still retained negative thoughts on him, but she did not loathe him like Hera did. “I cannot say that I have. Truth be told, I think it’s been a few decades since I had any contact with him in any sense.” She subtly pursed her lips, hiding resurfaced feelings as she sipped her champagne. Swallowing the small sip, Athena asked, “Why do you ask? What’s troubling you, Artemis?”
Artemis pursed her lips, and pondered the question for a moment. “It’s probably nothing. Just… variances. You know I don’t like when things aren’t in their place, and Hephaestus has been out of place more and more recently. If it’s not nothing… well then he’s looking for something, and whatever he wants, I want it more.” Artemis didn’t trust her family. Most of them were scheming, self serving, liars, and while she supposed she wasn’t so different, at least she was herself. Anything that was of value to her brothers, was more valuable to her.
The Goddess of Wisdom chuckled to herself, making casual glances around the ballroom as Artemis spoke. She too wondered what that atrocious-looking troll of a God was looking for (if he even was). Who was to say? Maybe he was just trying to give weight to an interest in him that has been nonexistent for centuries. Athena certainly hasn’t given the troll any place in her mind since before the fall -- though, if she was completely honest, even centuries before that, Athena gave little care to him. Even the likes of Hera were more tolerable in her mind than the wretched beast that burst from her loins (in a matter of speaking).
“Do you have any leads on his whereabouts? Or maybe a last known location? Perhaps the Alfather could help, as well. Not that I am particularly fond of owing him two favors, but if it is something he might be able to assist, especially if it will finally shed some light on the troll’s location, it may just be worth the hassle.” Internally, Athena doubted the very thing she stated. Stories of Odin reached even the Greek Pantheon and not everything that reached her ears were favorable stories. Still, she stood by what she said about it possibly being worth it.
“Honestly, I was expecting him to be here. Seems he’s chosen to forgo today’s festivities.” Artemis shook her head. Something was perturbing her, she just could not see what. “You’re right about Odin. It can’t hurt, seeing what he knows. Perhaps it’s time we pay him a visit,” Artemis said, smiling her hunter’s smile.
“We huh?” Athena smirked, poising her glass to her lips. She smirked under and it hummed a thoughtful sound, one that had many of her brilliant thoughts pumping through her mind. “Just like the good old days.”
“I do, don’t I?”
A rare smile graced Artemis’ face as Athena arrived beside her, happy to have the company. Her half-sister was often the only member of her pantheon that she could stomach for long. It was rare she found someone more clever than her, and besides, she had no girls to watch over for the day. In the absence of work, she supposed she could let her hair down, just a little.
“Immediate future? I’m sure our wonderful step-mother will push all the buttons that she can by the end of today’s festivities.” Artemis hazarded a glance over to the other side of the room, where her brother was still toying with Melinoe. She rolled her eyes and let them fall on Ares. Brooding as he was, she could not rule him out of any possible trouble. “Though, I suppose one of our brothers will make an effort to upstage her.”
Athena lost her half-smile at the mention of Hera. A complicated relationship, those two had. Some days were tolerable and some days she wished she still had both her Shield of Aegis, which was lost during the crusader days, as well as her full divine powers. There was no proper way to…repay Hera in the weakened state she was. But she couldn’t think about that. It was neither here nor there and she was, at least, in the company of someone who made this obligatory luncheon much more tolerable than if Artemis wasn’t around.
Looking around as Artemis mentioned their brothers, her eyes couldn’t help but fall on Hercules, who she just noticed. “Could always count on the Divine Idiot over there to make things interesting.” She had a fascination with her half-mortal brother, Hercules. She found him annoying but in the way one kept a jester around than a cockroach like she had to assume most saw him.
“Can we blame him? He’s hardly more than a toddler,” Artemis said, swirling her cup gently. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything of interest lately?” Artemis had her hand in a great many pots, and if there was anyone she trusted to aid her, it was the grey eyed Athena. Between searches for their father, keeping tabs on the mortals and their knowledge regarding the existence of the fallen deities, and her own, more personal ambitions, it paid to have a helping hand. Athena was well positioned to hear some interesting whispers, and Artemis loved to gossip.
Athena let out a slight chuckle at the comment Artemis made about Hercules. She agreed, of course, but she found it hilarious because was absolutely right. Athena was fond of Hercules, but he hardly inherited their father’s natural intelligence. That right was reserved for the two goddesses analyzing everything that happened in the ballroom. “Anything interesting, you ask?” Athena hummed, glancing at Artemis. One could say she certainly had something, though Sophia Pellas was urging her not ot say anything. Something about duty and honor, but Athena had to admit, she’s been meaning to get it off her chest and Artemis was, if not anything else, a trusted confidant. Perhaps even someone who could help her out. “Well, I have something you might find interesting. Let me ask you first: what have you heard about a vigilante that goes by The Blue Crusader?”
Artemis snorted. She had never been one for the high drama that putting on a costume and fighting crime required. She preferred to let her prey see her face. “Enough. A few of the girls heard something about one of his nighttime adventures, relayed it back to me. Honestly, I thought it was Apollo. He used to like to play dress up, back in the sixties. The guy sounds a bit too hands on for him though.” Artemis smirked at the distant memory of her brother, clad in spandex. That endeavor had been amusingly short lived.
Athena chuckled at the mere thought that The Blue Crusader could be Apollo. She wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that, but something about the Crusader was that whoever it was, they were careful. Careful enough to not have their identity known to those who they attacked; careful enough that not a simple person even knew what he looked like. “As amusing as it would be to find out that our brother was behind it, you’re right. It’s too hands-on and, to be quite frank with you, Artemis, this Crusader is too smart to be anyone even remotely close to Apollo.” Though her tone was serious, she chuckled again. “But he struck again last night. At the docks in Belltown. Five men were injured, all with several cuts and premature bruises all over their body.”
“Well, that seems to rule out most of our family. Smarts have never been their strong suit,” Artemis said, a wry smile creeping across her face. “Probably eliminates most mortals as well. Useful as they can be, I can’t imagine one of them being able to stump you.” Silver eyes scanned the room, observing each immortal like they were a deer she was tracking. “Have you tried our friends from the north?” Artemis nodded in the direction of Odin and Loki. “This isn’t either of their styles, but Odin can be helpful, if you’re willing to owe him a favor. He does have an annoying tendency to know things.”
Athena mused a sound at the mention of Odin. She had what one might call an interesting history with Odin -- one that Athena would neither call favorable nor unfavorable. Artemis was right, of course. Odin was one of the most knowledgeable deities of their kind. Even if she had not conversed with him in such a manner in quite some time, that much she remembered as clear as the fall of Troy. But she just didn’t agree with Artemis about Odin but how none of those from their own pantheon fit the motive or style. Either too idiotic to not get caught or too arrogant to not want at least someone to know it was them. The Blue Crusader had to be someone both with the humility to not seek fame among their peers and with enough brains to do so without getting caught.
And the longer she thought about it, Athena wasn’t sure if she wanted to know who he was to arrest or congratulate them. It was a perplexing situation for the Greek Goddess of Wisdom, to say the least. “Perhaps I’ll give the Alfather a visit. Not here, of course. Hardly the place to talk about such a sensitive matter. Perhaps after today’s festivities. Surely he could make time for me.” In the back of her mind, Athena dreaded what Aretemis said might come to pass: owing Odin a favor. It didn’t frighten her, but the reputation that the Alfather amassed made her worry.
“Surely if he won’t, you’ll make the time yourself,” Artemis said, flashing Athena her playful smile. “Let me ask you a question now. Have you heard from Hephaestus recently?” Artemis swirled her champagne and slid her eyes across the ballroom. “Girls tell me he’s been seen more and more recently. It’s not like him.” Artemis was a huntress, and she knew that animals, divine or otherwise, did not change their behaviour without reason.
Glancing at Artemis, she hummed in a thoughtful way at the mention of their brother. “Hephaestus?” She repeated back as she thought to the last time she remembered even hearing from her brother. As unfavorable as he was in her opinion, past incidents of their interactions still bearing a rather lasting impression on her, in the years spent among mortals the Goddess of Wisdom has come to soften up on him somewhat. He still retained negative thoughts on him, but she did not loathe him like Hera did. “I cannot say that I have. Truth be told, I think it’s been a few decades since I had any contact with him in any sense.” She subtly pursed her lips, hiding resurfaced feelings as she sipped her champagne. Swallowing the small sip, Athena asked, “Why do you ask? What’s troubling you, Artemis?”
Artemis pursed her lips, and pondered the question for a moment. “It’s probably nothing. Just… variances. You know I don’t like when things aren’t in their place, and Hephaestus has been out of place more and more recently. If it’s not nothing… well then he’s looking for something, and whatever he wants, I want it more.” Artemis didn’t trust her family. Most of them were scheming, self serving, liars, and while she supposed she wasn’t so different, at least she was herself. Anything that was of value to her brothers, was more valuable to her.
The Goddess of Wisdom chuckled to herself, making casual glances around the ballroom as Artemis spoke. She too wondered what that atrocious-looking troll of a God was looking for (if he even was). Who was to say? Maybe he was just trying to give weight to an interest in him that has been nonexistent for centuries. Athena certainly hasn’t given the troll any place in her mind since before the fall -- though, if she was completely honest, even centuries before that, Athena gave little care to him. Even the likes of Hera were more tolerable in her mind than the wretched beast that burst from her loins (in a matter of speaking).
“Do you have any leads on his whereabouts? Or maybe a last known location? Perhaps the Alfather could help, as well. Not that I am particularly fond of owing him two favors, but if it is something he might be able to assist, especially if it will finally shed some light on the troll’s location, it may just be worth the hassle.” Internally, Athena doubted the very thing she stated. Stories of Odin reached even the Greek Pantheon and not everything that reached her ears were favorable stories. Still, she stood by what she said about it possibly being worth it.
“Honestly, I was expecting him to be here. Seems he’s chosen to forgo today’s festivities.” Artemis shook her head. Something was perturbing her, she just could not see what. “You’re right about Odin. It can’t hurt, seeing what he knows. Perhaps it’s time we pay him a visit,” Artemis said, smiling her hunter’s smile.
“We huh?” Athena smirked, poising her glass to her lips. She smirked under and it hummed a thoughtful sound, one that had many of her brilliant thoughts pumping through her mind. “Just like the good old days.”
As soon as Anteros moved to sit himself in the seat beside the Norse wolf, Hati relaxed into his chair. There were few people he could let his guard down around and Ant held the number one slot. A lifetime together listening patiently to the whingeing that fell from him in those late hours as they sat together admiring the moon in the comfort that only night can bring. Wrestling among the sheets as Catherine the Great reigned in the distance. Anteros grounded him in a way that was too familiar for the wolf to not latch on to. A semblance of home.
So, as he sat there beside him - pleased though Hati was - and spoke of finger sandwiches, he could tell that there was something much more there in the tone with which Ant spoke, bubbling under the surface; threatening to escape and rush forth. Being the terrible influence he is he would just have to coax the coals of action himself.
“Mmhm, yeah, finger sandwiches. Not entirely what I would have liked it to mean… but we know your wonderful grand-ma-ma isn’t one for making such a scene. Wouldn’t want to bring out the degen sides of the gods now would she?” There was a humor to his own words as he shifted his gaze upon the Erote. Hati was never one for sentimentality but here he was admiring the golden man with memories flashing before his eyes, a cunning smirk playing upon his lips.
Anteros grinned. He couldn’t help himself. Hera might disapprove of the company he kept, Ares might’ve looked down on how he spent his time on Earth, but it did not seem to matter when he was in the presence of the wolf. He wondered if the nights they’d shared all those centuries ago still played out in the theater of Hati’s mind, like they did in his own. Surely not.
“My grandmother prefers all scenes revolve around her,” he replied, looking out into the crowd. “Of course, as a loving grandson, I could not condone any actions taken that might disrupt the festivities. As a son with no desire to see his father however, well,” Anteros paused and took a sip from his glass. “I guess I wouldn’t mind if someone sent it all to shit.”
Hati nodded along in agreement, Hera is one to enjoy the spotlight, much like his own ‘King of the Gods’. He internally groaned when he had spotted the Allfather enter the club and make a beeline towards the trickster. An odd combination the two of them made. However probably no more odd than a Love god and a moon chaser. Hati couldn't, wouldn't, stop the smile that snuck through his cultivated brooding appearance. Anteros did that to him.
"A literal shitshow, huh? I'm sure I could make that happen," It would be too easy to do otherwise. Too boring as well. However, Ant's words caught up to his ears and if they were any more wild like they would have physically perked up. "Speaking of the one whom you wish not to see. Mind if I pick your brain a bit about the man?" Who better to gather info from than his closest friend? Someone who Hati had no qualms discussing his new and strange case too.
Anteros cocked an eyebrow. His relationship with Ares had never been especially loving. That wasn’t surprising, especially within his family. But Hati knew all that. He knew of the scorn Ares looked at Anteros with, and knew how much the word ‘failure’ had come to sting. If Hati was asking about his father now, long after Anteros had drunkenly shared the sorrowful lows of their relationship, it meant someone else was looking into him as well. Interesting. “Not my favorite topic of discussion, but I’ll make an exception for you,” Anteros said, reflexively looking over his shoulder, as if his father might appear at any moment.
A groan escaped the white wolf as he leaned back and rubbed his hands along his face, snagging on scruff in the process, "I know this is a lot to ask and normally I wouldn't. It's just a new client, they want all the deets on Alexander Marvos. And how could I pass up screwing over your father?" Another flash of a toothy grin to cut any tension that might have settled between them. Hati knew how much he despised the war god and yet here he was bringing him up. Disregarding feelings.
It made him feel like shit. And Hati never felt bad when it came to doing his job. But with Anteros nothing was ever what it seemed. Nothing was "how he normally did things". It was always softer, newer. More real. Hati shook those thoughts away, 'Now is not the time,' he chastised himself.
Ares’ mortal name summoned a scoff from his son. “Is that what he’s going by now?” Anteros shook his head, forcing a smile through the painful absurdity of his situation. “I haven’t really spoken with him in, I don’t know, twenty years? He’s been off the grid, besides the festivals. He barely even talks to Hera anymore.” Even Hati’s presence couldn’t quell the rage bubbling up inside his chest. “Best guess? He’s been too busy playing at brutality to give a shit about anyone else. Of course, that implies that he ever gave a shit at all, and I’m not sure he did.”
Anteros downed the rest of his champagne. He would not explode, not here, or even in the privacy of his apartment later tonight. He was not meant to glow, incandescent with rage. He was the perfect son, poised and perfectly put together. The boiling water inside him would stay inside.
“Honestly, that’s probably all your client needs. A millenia on Earth couldn’t make Ares care about anyone other than himself, I doubt a new name and some-” Anteros trailed off as his father arrived. He watched eyes pass over him, like he was just another face in the crowd. Of course he wasn’t enough for Ares, today or any day. “I stand corrected. He’s gotten worse.”
There was no mistaking the bitter taste that seemed to linger in Anteros’ mouth at the mere mention of his father. It was enough information as he was going to get from the male beside him. There wasn’t a need to press any further for fear of truly hurting him. It wasn't something that he enjoyed doing to him though that seemed to be all he ever brought to the table when it was the two of them. Always seeking the Erote out to help him with his issues. Even after having essentially ditched him all those years ago. Hati didn't deserve Anteros, in any capacity. Friend or lover.
Offering a content, thin lined smile Hati patted the male on the back, nodding in agreement, pulling him closer and into his side. "If it makes you feel any better," He licked his lips after taking another sip, finishing his glass and waving a server down for another, "This... client of mine seems extremely interested in him. Obsessively so. It would be such a shame if this information, of her and her intentions, were to be leaked to the rest of the gods. Perhaps causing a sense of discord among lovers," Steel eyes didn't miss the arrival of the Aztec and wondered just how much pain she could inflict on War. Her own pain would be a small price to pay if it meant that Anteros' blood would simmer and the loving passion that is Requited love would shine brightly once more.
Anteros smirked through the rage as he followed Hati’s gaze. “Y’know, you are much more clever than Odin ever gave you credit for.” Anteros was not normally one for tricks and schemes, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make exceptions. Tricks and schemes were embedded in his DNA after all. Manipulating Tlazolteotl’s emotions felt dirty, but better that it came from him than someone else. “Who is this woman anyway? Lover? Enemy?”
If Hati were in a more advantageous position he would have bowed at the compliment. It wasn’t often he was able to have his fur ruffled in all the best ways with words of affirmation. Especially from one as beautiful as Anteros. "Get this, a mortal.” Hati nodded as if it were scandalous gossip. ”Some woman named Isabelle or some such iteration. I’m assuming it’s a fling with the size of the hard-on she's got for your old man.” He graciously accepted his new drink and with a flourish downed it quickly. "Not entirely sure if she’s scorned or not. She wants information on him; everything about him actually. Family, friends, business endeavors and the like. It struck me as very strange, but there was nothing… otherworldly about her so she couldn’t be a hunter of some sort.” Hati shrugged, not exactly sure of something in his hunt got under his skin. It wasn’t like him to not know something about his prey. Regardless of if they knew their role in his life.
"Either way, information will be gathered and delivered to her sporadically,” another wolfish grin placed perfectly across his features, sharp eyes flitting between scanning the room and darting back down to the male still hugged to his side. He would burn anyone else to ensure that his closest companion wouldn’t hurt anymore. If that meant he too would pay the price, then so be it. But there was going to be some fun to be had before it was all said and done. "It’s the least I can do in order to ensure chaos follows all the right people. There are always some casualties of war, aren’t there?”
Anteros looked between Tlazolteotl and his father. Even now, he sensed the forces moving between them, the pulls of love. It was practically a fog, filling the ballroom with a rosy haze. “That there are. That there are.”
So, as he sat there beside him - pleased though Hati was - and spoke of finger sandwiches, he could tell that there was something much more there in the tone with which Ant spoke, bubbling under the surface; threatening to escape and rush forth. Being the terrible influence he is he would just have to coax the coals of action himself.
“Mmhm, yeah, finger sandwiches. Not entirely what I would have liked it to mean… but we know your wonderful grand-ma-ma isn’t one for making such a scene. Wouldn’t want to bring out the degen sides of the gods now would she?” There was a humor to his own words as he shifted his gaze upon the Erote. Hati was never one for sentimentality but here he was admiring the golden man with memories flashing before his eyes, a cunning smirk playing upon his lips.
Anteros grinned. He couldn’t help himself. Hera might disapprove of the company he kept, Ares might’ve looked down on how he spent his time on Earth, but it did not seem to matter when he was in the presence of the wolf. He wondered if the nights they’d shared all those centuries ago still played out in the theater of Hati’s mind, like they did in his own. Surely not.
“My grandmother prefers all scenes revolve around her,” he replied, looking out into the crowd. “Of course, as a loving grandson, I could not condone any actions taken that might disrupt the festivities. As a son with no desire to see his father however, well,” Anteros paused and took a sip from his glass. “I guess I wouldn’t mind if someone sent it all to shit.”
Hati nodded along in agreement, Hera is one to enjoy the spotlight, much like his own ‘King of the Gods’. He internally groaned when he had spotted the Allfather enter the club and make a beeline towards the trickster. An odd combination the two of them made. However probably no more odd than a Love god and a moon chaser. Hati couldn't, wouldn't, stop the smile that snuck through his cultivated brooding appearance. Anteros did that to him.
"A literal shitshow, huh? I'm sure I could make that happen," It would be too easy to do otherwise. Too boring as well. However, Ant's words caught up to his ears and if they were any more wild like they would have physically perked up. "Speaking of the one whom you wish not to see. Mind if I pick your brain a bit about the man?" Who better to gather info from than his closest friend? Someone who Hati had no qualms discussing his new and strange case too.
Anteros cocked an eyebrow. His relationship with Ares had never been especially loving. That wasn’t surprising, especially within his family. But Hati knew all that. He knew of the scorn Ares looked at Anteros with, and knew how much the word ‘failure’ had come to sting. If Hati was asking about his father now, long after Anteros had drunkenly shared the sorrowful lows of their relationship, it meant someone else was looking into him as well. Interesting. “Not my favorite topic of discussion, but I’ll make an exception for you,” Anteros said, reflexively looking over his shoulder, as if his father might appear at any moment.
A groan escaped the white wolf as he leaned back and rubbed his hands along his face, snagging on scruff in the process, "I know this is a lot to ask and normally I wouldn't. It's just a new client, they want all the deets on Alexander Marvos. And how could I pass up screwing over your father?" Another flash of a toothy grin to cut any tension that might have settled between them. Hati knew how much he despised the war god and yet here he was bringing him up. Disregarding feelings.
It made him feel like shit. And Hati never felt bad when it came to doing his job. But with Anteros nothing was ever what it seemed. Nothing was "how he normally did things". It was always softer, newer. More real. Hati shook those thoughts away, 'Now is not the time,' he chastised himself.
Ares’ mortal name summoned a scoff from his son. “Is that what he’s going by now?” Anteros shook his head, forcing a smile through the painful absurdity of his situation. “I haven’t really spoken with him in, I don’t know, twenty years? He’s been off the grid, besides the festivals. He barely even talks to Hera anymore.” Even Hati’s presence couldn’t quell the rage bubbling up inside his chest. “Best guess? He’s been too busy playing at brutality to give a shit about anyone else. Of course, that implies that he ever gave a shit at all, and I’m not sure he did.”
Anteros downed the rest of his champagne. He would not explode, not here, or even in the privacy of his apartment later tonight. He was not meant to glow, incandescent with rage. He was the perfect son, poised and perfectly put together. The boiling water inside him would stay inside.
“Honestly, that’s probably all your client needs. A millenia on Earth couldn’t make Ares care about anyone other than himself, I doubt a new name and some-” Anteros trailed off as his father arrived. He watched eyes pass over him, like he was just another face in the crowd. Of course he wasn’t enough for Ares, today or any day. “I stand corrected. He’s gotten worse.”
There was no mistaking the bitter taste that seemed to linger in Anteros’ mouth at the mere mention of his father. It was enough information as he was going to get from the male beside him. There wasn’t a need to press any further for fear of truly hurting him. It wasn't something that he enjoyed doing to him though that seemed to be all he ever brought to the table when it was the two of them. Always seeking the Erote out to help him with his issues. Even after having essentially ditched him all those years ago. Hati didn't deserve Anteros, in any capacity. Friend or lover.
Offering a content, thin lined smile Hati patted the male on the back, nodding in agreement, pulling him closer and into his side. "If it makes you feel any better," He licked his lips after taking another sip, finishing his glass and waving a server down for another, "This... client of mine seems extremely interested in him. Obsessively so. It would be such a shame if this information, of her and her intentions, were to be leaked to the rest of the gods. Perhaps causing a sense of discord among lovers," Steel eyes didn't miss the arrival of the Aztec and wondered just how much pain she could inflict on War. Her own pain would be a small price to pay if it meant that Anteros' blood would simmer and the loving passion that is Requited love would shine brightly once more.
Anteros smirked through the rage as he followed Hati’s gaze. “Y’know, you are much more clever than Odin ever gave you credit for.” Anteros was not normally one for tricks and schemes, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make exceptions. Tricks and schemes were embedded in his DNA after all. Manipulating Tlazolteotl’s emotions felt dirty, but better that it came from him than someone else. “Who is this woman anyway? Lover? Enemy?”
If Hati were in a more advantageous position he would have bowed at the compliment. It wasn’t often he was able to have his fur ruffled in all the best ways with words of affirmation. Especially from one as beautiful as Anteros. "Get this, a mortal.” Hati nodded as if it were scandalous gossip. ”Some woman named Isabelle or some such iteration. I’m assuming it’s a fling with the size of the hard-on she's got for your old man.” He graciously accepted his new drink and with a flourish downed it quickly. "Not entirely sure if she’s scorned or not. She wants information on him; everything about him actually. Family, friends, business endeavors and the like. It struck me as very strange, but there was nothing… otherworldly about her so she couldn’t be a hunter of some sort.” Hati shrugged, not exactly sure of something in his hunt got under his skin. It wasn’t like him to not know something about his prey. Regardless of if they knew their role in his life.
"Either way, information will be gathered and delivered to her sporadically,” another wolfish grin placed perfectly across his features, sharp eyes flitting between scanning the room and darting back down to the male still hugged to his side. He would burn anyone else to ensure that his closest companion wouldn’t hurt anymore. If that meant he too would pay the price, then so be it. But there was going to be some fun to be had before it was all said and done. "It’s the least I can do in order to ensure chaos follows all the right people. There are always some casualties of war, aren’t there?”
Anteros looked between Tlazolteotl and his father. Even now, he sensed the forces moving between them, the pulls of love. It was practically a fog, filling the ballroom with a rosy haze. “That there are. That there are.”
Covetous Eyes
Covetous Eyes
In a private suite tucked away in the west wing of Seattle’s most luxurious country club, Hera preened in front of a mirror. Delicate, slender fingers pulled her hair into place, and fastened it with a pin, pearly white and inlaid with diamonds. She’d arrived hours before, and had been working tirelessly on her image, while the employees below worked to arrange the luncheon she’d arranged. With Anteros joining the fray, she was putting the finishing touches on her look. Perfection could not be perfection without a little bit of work, after all.
By now, the servants employees had finished with their preparations, and the other deities had arrived, bringing with them the stench of desperation and classlessness. The only thing she enjoyed about these festivities was the opportunity to posture over the others. It was her arrangements on which immortality rested. Sure, Persephone tended the garden with her bastard hands, but it was Hera who brought them together, Hera who allowed them to eat. Or so she liked to think, at least.
Giving her reflection a once over, she decided that she was done. She smiled at herself, and strode out of her room, long legs carrying her forward with all the elegance and grace of a true queen. In her strut there was power, authority, dignity. Mortals, clad in the country club uniform, scurried out of her way, already well aware of the stories detailing Marilyn Montgomery’s infernal rage.
The stairs into the foyer provided her with an overview of the assembled deities. Piercing green eyes scanned the crowd, sizing up each and every one of her rivals. She saw Loki, the foul heathen, smiling his conman grin, and Zeus, whoring his way throughout the room. If it was up to her, they’d both be barred from the festivities, left to rot in their mortal bodies. Alas, access to the fruit was not truly in Hera’s control, loathe as she was to admit it. Zeus and Loki were painful reminders of her failings in this regard.
Artemis stood against a wall, alone, thankfully. The country club had been given a very explicit guest list, mainly to ensure that none of the Moon Witch’s savage girls made it through the doors. Surely they were watching the perimeter, but at least Artemis would have to rely on her own ears to gather information today. Anything that weakened Zeus’ bastards, was worth the fuss.
Lips curled in a practiced smile, Hera waved over a waitress as she descended the stairs, swiping a champagne flute from her tray, a fork from a nearby table, and raising both in the air. Clink clink clink went the fork against the glass, a summons of divine importance.
“So, we find ourselves here again. Another year, another festival. Oh how the time does fly,” Hera said. Her words dripped with the saccharine sweetness of a practiced politician, a woman who chose her words with care. “It is truly wonderful to see you all once again. Truly. Lunch will be served shortly, and then, a bout of my favorite game. I’m sure you all know the prize. So, go and do what you are best at. Eat, drink, and be oh, so merry.” Hera punctuated her speech with a sip of champagne, before gliding forward to play the game she truly favored. The politics of the gods.
No sooner had she stepped onto the board than her favorite player arrived, dressed to kill.
“Word on the street is you’ll be able to put away your smoke signals kit soon thanks to your second favorite grandchild, love that for you!”
Hera did not need to feign a smile for her granddaughter. She wore a rare grin as Pothos took her place beside her.
“Darling! Did you see my speech? It was a good one this year, not that anyone here can appreciate it,” Hera punctuated her boast by finishing her glass and leaving it on a passing waiter’s tray. “How is the music going? Well, I presume?”
The brightness in Hera’s smile cast away the gloom that dared to creep up in Pothos’ subconscious, daring her to turn from the beauty of her mother and give into the wrath of war that coursed through her veins, but Hera was a safe haven for her, whom had been abandoned by all but her brother. Pothos returned the smile and released a breath that relaxed her shoulders, her arm slipping away from Hera’s to give the woman a once over and then an approving nod, “I got in near the end of it, but you’ve always had a wonderful way with words. The music?” Pothos repeated her brows furrowing slightly as she pondered what a good answer would be to that.
Of course in the span of her perpetual life her music career was great, but in her current life she, as Amor, she had yet to release her Sophomore album, ” It’s going, still working on the second album, but art takes time, you can’t build an empire on a single track list, ya know?” Pothos was content with that answer but wanted to avoid further conversation about her music career, lest she be subject to disappointing someone else in her life and so she cast her eyes to the growing crowd of gods, “Seems like the crowd is still quite large, I see that some of our favorites are still kicking around..” Pothos’ gaze wandered over the crowd and landed on her brother and his peculiar companion, “Ant made it seem like you were looking for me, was it just because you missed me or did something happen?”
Hera clapped her hands together, surprise and excitement bubbling over as a gasp slipped past her lips. “Yes, yes, I almost forgot,” she said. Reaching into her clutch the Queen of the Gods produced a black, leather box. Popping the lid back, Hera revealed a pendant, a small, shining, golden apple, attached to a thin chain, and nestled against the black velvet of its box.
“Once upon a time, your mother and I went to war over an apple like this. Heroes fought and died for a fruit that they would never taste. We fought and fought and fought, and that apple remained untouched. I thought…” Hera paused, ran her thumb against the edge of the box, “well, I saw it and I thought you should have it.” Hera pushed the box towards her granddaughter, a softness that most would’ve found alien, overcoming her usual icy poise. “A reminder that it’s far more advantageous to be coveted, than to covet.”
Pothos’ eyes widened as she appraised the necklace that was thrust into her hands, she snuck a couple glances at her grandmother’s face as the reminder she shared hung in the air. Did she know? The thought popped up as she lifted the necklace by the dainty chain, her eyes glanced over the swarm of gods once more as she undid the clasp, there’s no way she knows… no she definitely knows! Pothos held up the unclasped necklace to request her grandmother’s help before turning and lifting her hair, only just realizing how silent she had been while her mind raced, “I love it!” her words came out in a rush, an octave off from her usual tone and she grimaced at the forced sound.
After a beat she cleared her throat and tried again, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to receive something so beautiful, really, I’m grateful for this… and for everything you’ve done for me, for us.” Pothos reached a hand to touch the pendent that rested against her clavicle, “I won’t tell Ant you gave this me, he’ll get jealous.”
Hera smirked, content in believing her gifts took everyone’s breath away. She placed her hand softly against Pothos’ shoulder, protective and firm all at once. “You always did know how to keep a secret,” the matriarch said, eyes flitting out to scan the enemies that walked amongst them. “Do me a favor, and keep an ear open today. You can never be too paranoid, especially at a festival.”
Pothos simply nodded at Hera’s words, though her thoughts lingered on trying to pick apart her tone, “Speaking of paranoid, have you talked to your likable son recently?” Pothos started and leaned forward against the stone ledge to search for the face of her uncle, “He stopped by the studio when I was on my way out the other day, he didn’t seem… well, like not sick but something was definitely bothering him.” Pothos turned again, away from the party and to cross her arms over her chest as she rose a curious brow, “Also, guess he’s not in on the family drama, he thought I would have information on Ares-pfft, yeah, barking up the wrong tree with that one.”
It took Hera a moment to place exactly which child her grandchild was referring to. “He did stop by the office last week,” Hera said, looking off into the distance as she recalled her most recent meeting with Hephaestus. “I thought he was there to discuss his campaign, but he was asking about the family as well. Something about Athena, maybe?” Hera waved her comment off; she’d never given much thought to Hephaestus, despite her oh so maternal nature. “I wouldn’t give it much thought. He’s sentimental, in his own ways.”
Pothos pursed her lips while taking in her Grandmother’s expression, for a moment she opened her mouth ready to pose her next question, but held back and pulled her lips into a smile as she straightened from her position.
“As much as I adore all the time I spend with you, duty calls. I’ve got to make my rounds as the Super Star around here, and you’ve got to be the Hostess with the Mostest.” Pothos grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief as she touched the Golden Apple again, “Or rather, I need to put myself in a better position to be coveted.”
Hera smiled, genuine and full of pride; she might have made plenty of mistakes, but her grandchildren were not among them. “That’s my girl.”
By now, the servants employees had finished with their preparations, and the other deities had arrived, bringing with them the stench of desperation and classlessness. The only thing she enjoyed about these festivities was the opportunity to posture over the others. It was her arrangements on which immortality rested. Sure, Persephone tended the garden with her bastard hands, but it was Hera who brought them together, Hera who allowed them to eat. Or so she liked to think, at least.
Giving her reflection a once over, she decided that she was done. She smiled at herself, and strode out of her room, long legs carrying her forward with all the elegance and grace of a true queen. In her strut there was power, authority, dignity. Mortals, clad in the country club uniform, scurried out of her way, already well aware of the stories detailing Marilyn Montgomery’s infernal rage.
The stairs into the foyer provided her with an overview of the assembled deities. Piercing green eyes scanned the crowd, sizing up each and every one of her rivals. She saw Loki, the foul heathen, smiling his conman grin, and Zeus, whoring his way throughout the room. If it was up to her, they’d both be barred from the festivities, left to rot in their mortal bodies. Alas, access to the fruit was not truly in Hera’s control, loathe as she was to admit it. Zeus and Loki were painful reminders of her failings in this regard.
Artemis stood against a wall, alone, thankfully. The country club had been given a very explicit guest list, mainly to ensure that none of the Moon Witch’s savage girls made it through the doors. Surely they were watching the perimeter, but at least Artemis would have to rely on her own ears to gather information today. Anything that weakened Zeus’ bastards, was worth the fuss.
Lips curled in a practiced smile, Hera waved over a waitress as she descended the stairs, swiping a champagne flute from her tray, a fork from a nearby table, and raising both in the air. Clink clink clink went the fork against the glass, a summons of divine importance.
“So, we find ourselves here again. Another year, another festival. Oh how the time does fly,” Hera said. Her words dripped with the saccharine sweetness of a practiced politician, a woman who chose her words with care. “It is truly wonderful to see you all once again. Truly. Lunch will be served shortly, and then, a bout of my favorite game. I’m sure you all know the prize. So, go and do what you are best at. Eat, drink, and be oh, so merry.” Hera punctuated her speech with a sip of champagne, before gliding forward to play the game she truly favored. The politics of the gods.
No sooner had she stepped onto the board than her favorite player arrived, dressed to kill.
“Word on the street is you’ll be able to put away your smoke signals kit soon thanks to your second favorite grandchild, love that for you!”
Hera did not need to feign a smile for her granddaughter. She wore a rare grin as Pothos took her place beside her.
“Darling! Did you see my speech? It was a good one this year, not that anyone here can appreciate it,” Hera punctuated her boast by finishing her glass and leaving it on a passing waiter’s tray. “How is the music going? Well, I presume?”
The brightness in Hera’s smile cast away the gloom that dared to creep up in Pothos’ subconscious, daring her to turn from the beauty of her mother and give into the wrath of war that coursed through her veins, but Hera was a safe haven for her, whom had been abandoned by all but her brother. Pothos returned the smile and released a breath that relaxed her shoulders, her arm slipping away from Hera’s to give the woman a once over and then an approving nod, “I got in near the end of it, but you’ve always had a wonderful way with words. The music?” Pothos repeated her brows furrowing slightly as she pondered what a good answer would be to that.
Of course in the span of her perpetual life her music career was great, but in her current life she, as Amor, she had yet to release her Sophomore album, ” It’s going, still working on the second album, but art takes time, you can’t build an empire on a single track list, ya know?” Pothos was content with that answer but wanted to avoid further conversation about her music career, lest she be subject to disappointing someone else in her life and so she cast her eyes to the growing crowd of gods, “Seems like the crowd is still quite large, I see that some of our favorites are still kicking around..” Pothos’ gaze wandered over the crowd and landed on her brother and his peculiar companion, “Ant made it seem like you were looking for me, was it just because you missed me or did something happen?”
Hera clapped her hands together, surprise and excitement bubbling over as a gasp slipped past her lips. “Yes, yes, I almost forgot,” she said. Reaching into her clutch the Queen of the Gods produced a black, leather box. Popping the lid back, Hera revealed a pendant, a small, shining, golden apple, attached to a thin chain, and nestled against the black velvet of its box.
“Once upon a time, your mother and I went to war over an apple like this. Heroes fought and died for a fruit that they would never taste. We fought and fought and fought, and that apple remained untouched. I thought…” Hera paused, ran her thumb against the edge of the box, “well, I saw it and I thought you should have it.” Hera pushed the box towards her granddaughter, a softness that most would’ve found alien, overcoming her usual icy poise. “A reminder that it’s far more advantageous to be coveted, than to covet.”
Pothos’ eyes widened as she appraised the necklace that was thrust into her hands, she snuck a couple glances at her grandmother’s face as the reminder she shared hung in the air. Did she know? The thought popped up as she lifted the necklace by the dainty chain, her eyes glanced over the swarm of gods once more as she undid the clasp, there’s no way she knows… no she definitely knows! Pothos held up the unclasped necklace to request her grandmother’s help before turning and lifting her hair, only just realizing how silent she had been while her mind raced, “I love it!” her words came out in a rush, an octave off from her usual tone and she grimaced at the forced sound.
After a beat she cleared her throat and tried again, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to receive something so beautiful, really, I’m grateful for this… and for everything you’ve done for me, for us.” Pothos reached a hand to touch the pendent that rested against her clavicle, “I won’t tell Ant you gave this me, he’ll get jealous.”
Hera smirked, content in believing her gifts took everyone’s breath away. She placed her hand softly against Pothos’ shoulder, protective and firm all at once. “You always did know how to keep a secret,” the matriarch said, eyes flitting out to scan the enemies that walked amongst them. “Do me a favor, and keep an ear open today. You can never be too paranoid, especially at a festival.”
Pothos simply nodded at Hera’s words, though her thoughts lingered on trying to pick apart her tone, “Speaking of paranoid, have you talked to your likable son recently?” Pothos started and leaned forward against the stone ledge to search for the face of her uncle, “He stopped by the studio when I was on my way out the other day, he didn’t seem… well, like not sick but something was definitely bothering him.” Pothos turned again, away from the party and to cross her arms over her chest as she rose a curious brow, “Also, guess he’s not in on the family drama, he thought I would have information on Ares-pfft, yeah, barking up the wrong tree with that one.”
It took Hera a moment to place exactly which child her grandchild was referring to. “He did stop by the office last week,” Hera said, looking off into the distance as she recalled her most recent meeting with Hephaestus. “I thought he was there to discuss his campaign, but he was asking about the family as well. Something about Athena, maybe?” Hera waved her comment off; she’d never given much thought to Hephaestus, despite her oh so maternal nature. “I wouldn’t give it much thought. He’s sentimental, in his own ways.”
Pothos pursed her lips while taking in her Grandmother’s expression, for a moment she opened her mouth ready to pose her next question, but held back and pulled her lips into a smile as she straightened from her position.
“As much as I adore all the time I spend with you, duty calls. I’ve got to make my rounds as the Super Star around here, and you’ve got to be the Hostess with the Mostest.” Pothos grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief as she touched the Golden Apple again, “Or rather, I need to put myself in a better position to be coveted.”
Hera smiled, genuine and full of pride; she might have made plenty of mistakes, but her grandchildren were not among them. “That’s my girl.”
A cloud of grey, acrid smoke spooled out from the soft lips of the second Erote, the loneliest of them all. Anteros had quit smoking forty years ago, and yet, his habit returned for one day every year. He adored many things in this world: his grandmother, champagne, and the pleasant little stories mortals acted out before his eyes. He did not, however, adore the egos in the room below him.
This would be a day of sharp words, and the truth was, Anteros was tired. As he leaned over the second floor balcony, his shoulders sagged, heavy with what seemed to be the weight of the world. It was easy, in these times of gathered gods, to recognize his own loneliness. Loneliness, he supposed, was his curse. He was, after all, little more than a child’s teddy bear, only with thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams.
“Anteros!” his grandmother’s scolding straightened his back, a smoking stick frozen on its journey back to his mouth. “You know my thoughts on smoking,” Hera said as she stepped onto the balcony.
Anteros smirked as he turned around to face her. “Always offer one to the hostess?” he said, fishing out a fresh cigarette and a light from his jacket pocket. She was much too regal to carry her own, it seemed.
The pair took simultaneous drags, and sat quietly for a moment as their smoke mingled together in the air above them. Hera broke it first.
“No sign of your father?” The question hung around for a moment, like the smoke that would no doubt hang off his suit.
Anteros sighed, diverting his attention to the sky and its myriad of blues and greys. “Not yet. Don’t know if he’ll have much to say anyways.” If this bothered the seemingly young man, it did not show. He had inherited his mother’s poker face.
“My son is many things, but a great speaker? Unfortunately, that has never been his strong suit. It is hereditary, I suppose.” Hera and Anteros shared a smile. “He never had my taste though, and we both know that, unlike your mother, I’ve never supported a losing side.”
Hera’s words eased the burden of his existence, at least for a moment. He understood all too well how the other Olympians felt about their queen, but to him, she had always been this way. Strong, scary even, but supportive, even at the worst of times. At this point, she felt more like family than his parents did.
“I should go make my appearance. Wouldn’t want the children left unsupervised,” Anteros said, crushing the butt of his cigarette against the stone railing he leaned against.
“If you see your sister, tell her I’d like to speak with her as well,” Hera said, waving lazily as Anteros stepped inside. He nodded, before shutting the balcony door, and stepping out of Hera’s private suite. He swapped his cigarettes for a phone. Once he had been a squire for his brother, then his mother, and now, his grandmother. Anteros was ever the dutiful servant.
Down the stairs, the growing chatter of the Festival grew louder, and it wasn’t long before his legs had carried him into the crowd, swimming amidst faces, some of which he hadn’t seen since the last gathering. Love both faint and intoxicating swirled around him, disorienting him for a moment. The feelings of gods and the mortals who served them were waves threatening to drag him under, but he had long ago perfected his backstroke. Breathing deeply, he maneuvered his way through the divine bodies. With no sign of his sister yet, he was looking for one deity in particular.
He found him watching, like he always was. Hati was observant, and he should be; he made a living off of it. Anteros sidled up to him, that man who seemed to watch everyone but him. He wore a smirk, despite the feelings inside him that threatened to go to war over the slightest provocation. “So, are you as excited for finger sandwiches as I am?”
This would be a day of sharp words, and the truth was, Anteros was tired. As he leaned over the second floor balcony, his shoulders sagged, heavy with what seemed to be the weight of the world. It was easy, in these times of gathered gods, to recognize his own loneliness. Loneliness, he supposed, was his curse. He was, after all, little more than a child’s teddy bear, only with thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams.
“Anteros!” his grandmother’s scolding straightened his back, a smoking stick frozen on its journey back to his mouth. “You know my thoughts on smoking,” Hera said as she stepped onto the balcony.
Anteros smirked as he turned around to face her. “Always offer one to the hostess?” he said, fishing out a fresh cigarette and a light from his jacket pocket. She was much too regal to carry her own, it seemed.
The pair took simultaneous drags, and sat quietly for a moment as their smoke mingled together in the air above them. Hera broke it first.
“No sign of your father?” The question hung around for a moment, like the smoke that would no doubt hang off his suit.
Anteros sighed, diverting his attention to the sky and its myriad of blues and greys. “Not yet. Don’t know if he’ll have much to say anyways.” If this bothered the seemingly young man, it did not show. He had inherited his mother’s poker face.
“My son is many things, but a great speaker? Unfortunately, that has never been his strong suit. It is hereditary, I suppose.” Hera and Anteros shared a smile. “He never had my taste though, and we both know that, unlike your mother, I’ve never supported a losing side.”
Hera’s words eased the burden of his existence, at least for a moment. He understood all too well how the other Olympians felt about their queen, but to him, she had always been this way. Strong, scary even, but supportive, even at the worst of times. At this point, she felt more like family than his parents did.
“I should go make my appearance. Wouldn’t want the children left unsupervised,” Anteros said, crushing the butt of his cigarette against the stone railing he leaned against.
“If you see your sister, tell her I’d like to speak with her as well,” Hera said, waving lazily as Anteros stepped inside. He nodded, before shutting the balcony door, and stepping out of Hera’s private suite. He swapped his cigarettes for a phone. Once he had been a squire for his brother, then his mother, and now, his grandmother. Anteros was ever the dutiful servant.
To: Pot Head
Are you here yet? Grandma wants you and she still hates using a phone
Down the stairs, the growing chatter of the Festival grew louder, and it wasn’t long before his legs had carried him into the crowd, swimming amidst faces, some of which he hadn’t seen since the last gathering. Love both faint and intoxicating swirled around him, disorienting him for a moment. The feelings of gods and the mortals who served them were waves threatening to drag him under, but he had long ago perfected his backstroke. Breathing deeply, he maneuvered his way through the divine bodies. With no sign of his sister yet, he was looking for one deity in particular.
He found him watching, like he always was. Hati was observant, and he should be; he made a living off of it. Anteros sidled up to him, that man who seemed to watch everyone but him. He wore a smirk, despite the feelings inside him that threatened to go to war over the slightest provocation. “So, are you as excited for finger sandwiches as I am?”
As The Sun Rises, The Moon Sets.
| Location: Apollo’s Studio -> The Festival |
“Goooooooooooood morning Seattle, Alex here, Riseing and Whineing, as always. Wonderful, beautiful, people can you guess what I’m here to whine about today? If you guessed, luncheons that start at ten am, then you, my friend, are a winner. I mean, let’s all say be real, that’s a brunch. Anytime before eleven is when you eat cereal, and omlettes, and perhaps, a well made breakfast sandwich, but a ham and cheese at ten in the morning? Now that, good souls, is absurd. Nevertheless, until I get dragged off to eat teeny tiny little sandwiches, I’ll be keeping you all listening to some, dare I say, groovy tunes.”
Apollo’s voice poured out of radios to eager listeners all across the city, but in his studio, only Artemis was listening. She scowled at the sound of him playing the fool. She’d long ago become immune to the charms of his oh so musical voice. When he had finally finished, and stepped out into the room, she’d finished four of the sleaziest magazines she’d ever read, in an effort to empty her mind before the approaching festival.
“Why do you insist on doing all this…nonsense?” Artemis asked, gesturing around the room.
“Same reason you insist on collecting girls like Hera collects enemies,” Apollo said, striding gracefully over to a minifridge, and pulling out a bottle of sparkling water. “It’s fun.” he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a gulp.
Artemis scoffed and began walking towards the exit, unamused. Her arms were crossed in front of her, lest Apollo forget her mood. “You’d think two millenia would’ve been enough time for you to grow up. When are you going to realize there’s more important things than fun?”
“When the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east.” Apollo checked his reflection a final time, more so just to admire himself, before following after his sister. “Certainly couldn’t hurt you to have a little fun though. Y’know how I have so many friends?” A silence filled the air as they stepped out into the cold. “Comeon, ask me!”
Artemis sighed. “Let me guess. Idiots attract?”
Apollo laughed. “Close. It’s my winning smile.” Apollo grinned then, to prove his point, as Artemis rolled her eyes and ducked into the limousine that was waiting to drive them out of the city. Inside, a young woman, hardly older than the co-eds that often populated his and Hercules’ parties, waited in the driver's seat. Apollo flashed said smile in the rearview mirror, summoning a stern look from his sister.
“What did I say about the girls?” Artemis’ cold voice cut through the melody of his laugh.
“Look, but don’t touch?”
“I seem to recall the words I used were, ‘Don’t even think about it.’” Artemis signaled for the driver to begin the journey out to The Meridian, the country club that Hera had secured for this year’s Festival.
Apollo, ever the optimist, kept smiling. “Well, I wouldn’t, if you stopped bringing the pretty ones around.” Artemis shook her head, unsurprised. This was how it always was with them, the sun and the moon. Their bickering sustained them as the limousine wound its way towards the edge of the city, the driver silent in the presence of these two fallen gods.
They arrived with their usual splendor. That is to say, Artemis stepped out, looking the part she meant to play. She would never be accused of being underdressed. Apollo, on the other hand, was another matter. As long as Hera had been arranging these get togethers, he’d been ignoring the dress code. He was more than happy to mar her aesthetic with an old jacket, jeans, and a pair of flip flops, like he meant to flip the Queen of the Gods the bird with his feet. Truly, it wasn’t that far out of the question.
They approached the entrance together. Artemis wore her trademark face of stone, harder than any statue any mortal had carved in her likeness, and Apollo wore his shining smile. Turning heads was never Artemis’ goal, but Apollo didn’t bawk at the attention. He beamed at more than one server, blessing them with just a moment of his gaze.
“I take it you’ll be able to find a ride home?” Artemis asked, scanning the assembled gods for the face of one particular Aesir.
“What, you don’t want to debrief afterwards? Rude.” Apollo was too busy looking for his own mark, but the assembled eyes were too plain. The ones he sought sparkled with madness, but none as exciting as those were waiting here. Yet.
“Your company is exhausting. Are you surprised?”
“Can’t say that I am. The women I meet do seem to sleep well.”
Artemis responded with one last indignant snort and shook her head as she strode into the crowd, leaving Apollo to his own devices. He shrugged, alone at last, and set out for one of the passing waiters. If he was going to enjoy this, he’d need champagne. Or a good lay. Possibly both.
Apollo’s voice poured out of radios to eager listeners all across the city, but in his studio, only Artemis was listening. She scowled at the sound of him playing the fool. She’d long ago become immune to the charms of his oh so musical voice. When he had finally finished, and stepped out into the room, she’d finished four of the sleaziest magazines she’d ever read, in an effort to empty her mind before the approaching festival.
“Why do you insist on doing all this…nonsense?” Artemis asked, gesturing around the room.
“Same reason you insist on collecting girls like Hera collects enemies,” Apollo said, striding gracefully over to a minifridge, and pulling out a bottle of sparkling water. “It’s fun.” he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a gulp.
Artemis scoffed and began walking towards the exit, unamused. Her arms were crossed in front of her, lest Apollo forget her mood. “You’d think two millenia would’ve been enough time for you to grow up. When are you going to realize there’s more important things than fun?”
“When the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east.” Apollo checked his reflection a final time, more so just to admire himself, before following after his sister. “Certainly couldn’t hurt you to have a little fun though. Y’know how I have so many friends?” A silence filled the air as they stepped out into the cold. “Comeon, ask me!”
Artemis sighed. “Let me guess. Idiots attract?”
Apollo laughed. “Close. It’s my winning smile.” Apollo grinned then, to prove his point, as Artemis rolled her eyes and ducked into the limousine that was waiting to drive them out of the city. Inside, a young woman, hardly older than the co-eds that often populated his and Hercules’ parties, waited in the driver's seat. Apollo flashed said smile in the rearview mirror, summoning a stern look from his sister.
“What did I say about the girls?” Artemis’ cold voice cut through the melody of his laugh.
“Look, but don’t touch?”
“I seem to recall the words I used were, ‘Don’t even think about it.’” Artemis signaled for the driver to begin the journey out to The Meridian, the country club that Hera had secured for this year’s Festival.
Apollo, ever the optimist, kept smiling. “Well, I wouldn’t, if you stopped bringing the pretty ones around.” Artemis shook her head, unsurprised. This was how it always was with them, the sun and the moon. Their bickering sustained them as the limousine wound its way towards the edge of the city, the driver silent in the presence of these two fallen gods.
They arrived with their usual splendor. That is to say, Artemis stepped out, looking the part she meant to play. She would never be accused of being underdressed. Apollo, on the other hand, was another matter. As long as Hera had been arranging these get togethers, he’d been ignoring the dress code. He was more than happy to mar her aesthetic with an old jacket, jeans, and a pair of flip flops, like he meant to flip the Queen of the Gods the bird with his feet. Truly, it wasn’t that far out of the question.
They approached the entrance together. Artemis wore her trademark face of stone, harder than any statue any mortal had carved in her likeness, and Apollo wore his shining smile. Turning heads was never Artemis’ goal, but Apollo didn’t bawk at the attention. He beamed at more than one server, blessing them with just a moment of his gaze.
“I take it you’ll be able to find a ride home?” Artemis asked, scanning the assembled gods for the face of one particular Aesir.
“What, you don’t want to debrief afterwards? Rude.” Apollo was too busy looking for his own mark, but the assembled eyes were too plain. The ones he sought sparkled with madness, but none as exciting as those were waiting here. Yet.
“Your company is exhausting. Are you surprised?”
“Can’t say that I am. The women I meet do seem to sleep well.”
Artemis responded with one last indignant snort and shook her head as she strode into the crowd, leaving Apollo to his own devices. He shrugged, alone at last, and set out for one of the passing waiters. If he was going to enjoy this, he’d need champagne. Or a good lay. Possibly both.
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