Harry's Apartment [B36] - Olympian Meadows - NYC

[forge_fire]

The door is open, the warm flicker of the fireplace glowing on the wall opposite his door. Harry is inside, making a simple soup and, at this very moment, slicing a sandwich in two and setting both halves neatly on a small, simple earthenware plate. A blink and he checks the soup, lifting the lid to take a smiling wiff of it before dipping a

Comments

[blackcataztec]

And perhaps Harry knows that he's there, but it's second nature for Tezcatlipoca to melt out of the lengthening evening shadows, leaning against the door with his head tilted to the side, dark eyes watchful.

"Good evening, Hephaestus."

[forge_fire]

A nod of the head, a show of respect if not his usual warmth, and a hand outward, beckoning him inward. A welcome, if not a warm one. He holds up his cup of soup, an offer, if not one he expects will be taken up, and looks to the chair across from him, humbler than he knows Tezcatlipoca likes but not really giving much of a damn.

[blackcataztec]

He enters the room, graceful and sinuous as the jaguar that is his symbol. Perfectly dressed as usual, it's clear he's just returned from a day at the office, his only concession to being home a slight loosening of the shirt collar.

"I was wondering if you would take a look at an associate's vehicle. A foreign model, some name I don't recall, and she's not sure what's wrong with it. Complicated enough that her usual mechanic can't make heads or tails of it, so naturally my thoughts turned to you."

He would be paid for it; to think otherwise is not really in Tezcatlipoca's nature.

[forge_fire]

"I'll look at it."

No promises. He wouldn't promise this one anything, for all that he welcomes him. They've never been close, though they share an understanding: the understanding of complete opposites.

He sips his soup and eats his sandwich, saying nothing else as he does so because he's going to enjoy his meal whether there's a god in his doorway or not, regardless of who he might be.

When he's finished, he looks to Tezcatlipoca.

"What else?"

[blackcataztec]

Perhaps it's a smart thing, not to promise anything to Tezcatlipoca.

"Merely wondering how you are. You've not left your apartment for two months except for work."

He hadn't really intended to prevent Harry from enjoying his meal. Tezcatlipoca may not be the most pleasant of deities, but far be it for him to actively seek to discomfort someone for no reason.

[forge_fire]

He shrugs, a gesture that both dismisses what Texcatlipoca just said as being unimportant as well as asks what in the hell business of his it was. Finally, he holds his hands out in a "well?" look.

[blackcataztec]

A light shrug.

"I'm not allowed to be considered about the welbeing of my neighbours?"

[forge_fire]

Another shrug.

He can do what he likes but Harry find it odd.

[blackcataztec]

Perhaps Harry is more sensible than some of the other gods, then, and realises that Tezcatlipoca does nothing without his own plans in mind.

[forge_fire]

Of course he does. Because he is the god of volcanoes and yet, craft. Because his rage expressess itself in well-executed plans as opposed to acts of violence or stupidity.

"Soup?"

[blackcataztec]

"No, thank you. I ate with a client tonight."

[forge_fire]

A small laugh as he bows to whatever high and mighty and expensive food Tezcatlipoca had previously.

[blackcataztec]

He was eating with an up-and-coming starlet, what does Harry expect?

Another light shrug.

"We do what we must for our work, of course."

[forge_fire]

"Of course."

The same tone he used when Athena complained of car trouble in her expensive car. A small smile. Another gesture to the chair.

[blackcataztec]

"So."

He sits down, a somewhat wicked grin lighting his face.

"Spoken to our lovely god of writing lately?"

[forge_fire]

He nods, giving nothing more than the information requested because Bran was his friend and Tezcatlipoca most certainly was not.