Hope didn't go straight home from the mess she'd made. She'd gone to New York, yes, but didn't even make it to the door of the apartment building before she found herself walking elsewhere around the Lower East Side. Snow lined the sidewalks and the roofs of cars, and she shoved her hands into her pockets to escape the cold that just wouldn't ( Read more... )

Stone crackled first. Like an eggshell being pecked by the determination of the new life it could no longer contain. Puffs of dust began to steam out of the cracks as if forced. The stone began to regress, to become something lighter, wetter. It fell, like a slough of mud and there on pedestals, two of the manaie stood; less grim perhaps than when ( Read more... )

"Looks like he is late, but Dionysos does not care. Just the site brings back memories. Not of Ares per say, but of times when his need to prove something to the world and maybe to the others on the mountain, prior to ascending and Hestia giving him her chair on Olympus ( Read more... )

He appeared in the apartment that they were sharing, had been, before he left. He'd thought he might find her here, but she was nowhere. There wasn't even a sign that she had been here in a while. Deimos worried that maybe she'd gone off to fight and he was too late. Too late to help her, to keep her out of danger ( Read more... )

He'd become too used to the method employed by humanity for entering a domain normally denied them - breaking the barrier, usually constructed of glass, with whatever heavy device happens to be at hand. In most cases, that device was a rock; Prometheus had in turn grown used to having the facilitator of his entrance on hand whenever the situation ( Read more... )

In the underworld.
He wasn't sure if he should do it here. He really wasn't sure that he should be doing it at all. But he needed to.

He wasn't even sure he could leave now if he wanted to. That much hadn't been made clear to him ( Read more... )

He sat on his porch at home, upstate New York. It was three A.M., and this was the deepest part of the night ( Read more... )

He awoke along side Hope. Her, wrapped in his arms. Her form curled against his. They were still on the couch, apparently they'd fallen asleep while watching television and forgetting about the world. It made him smile.

There was no regret in his choice. Nothing to regret. He wouldn't stand by his father's side in this war. He wouldn't stand by ( Read more... )

He felt it ( Read more... )

(OOC: because threads that get too long are hard to navigate!)

The dusk had become evening, and at Night's little get-together, any mortal servants had retired. Nymphs replaced them to begin bearing trays on which rested cups of ambrosia and nectar; there were other things to suit some of the guests more... obscure tastes. The music continued to ( Read more... )