❧ ever florid queen, laughing and blessed

[at_thy_hearth]

The temple complex, dedicated to the Greeks, finds itself a new visitor today. She is small and veiled but walks with a certain sense of purpose and power, and when she passes others, she smiles warmly. (A ridiculous metaphor to fire belongs here, complete with the adjective "florid.") Normally, she would attend to duties in other ways, but today,

Comments

[ofmacedon]

Mortal family is still family - even if he's long outgrown the youthful high of ego that would allow him to claim to be - but while Alexander has been gifted with an inhuman ability at home, it is (sometimes thankfully) silent here in this world between worlds. He doesn't recognize the woman walking there, and even if he could, he might be too distracted.

The problem of what to do about Eric has been on his mind more than usual of late, and though he had intended to only make a quick trip in and out of Stigmata, he's found himself here, sitting on the higher levels of a white stone and marble theater, lost in thought. He might look like a tourist, sporting jeans and a t-shirt, except for the fact that his hands and forearms are covered in dried blood and ash - evidence of worship that's found its way onto his face and shirt as well. He's still in the house of the gods, and so hasn't bothered to 'clean' himself yet; he finds comfort in augury where others would find intimidation.

And yet he still has a headache. (Damnit.)

[at_thy_hearth]

He may not recognize her, but she recognizes him; Alexander remains one of her favorite mortals. Good-natured and faithful though always in perpetual state of war, it seems. So concerned but equally pleased to see him there, she stands several levels below him.

She smiles, just slightly. "Troubled?"

[ofmacedon]

Even without recognition he's polite, and he returns her smile, tired but genuine. "Just puzzling something out," he says, because to him, the 'problem' of Eric's design is more akin to 'theological math equation' than 'something upsetting'; he is very particular in his own way. And now, humorously apologetic, "The black raincloud over my head comes unbidden, I promise."

[at_thy_hearth]

There are probably several Greeks who would be offended by the lack of recognition, but it hardly fazes Hestia. She may be a little to use to it; though, she can hardly expect much when she rarely made appearances to many mortals. Besides, her godly hubris manifests itself in other ways.

Smiling wider, she steps up the levels between them. "What is your puzzle, then?" And at a level below, she sits, facing him.

[errantknights]

It's debatable as to whether or not Martel should be this far afield; his back is still healing, he's still gaining back the mass he lost in the early recovery process, and frankly certain members of his staff (possibly also his wife) would just be more comfortable if he stuck to the castle for now

[at_thy_hearth]

"Not at all," she returns, obviously enthused to be approached. Not many have come to her on their own; out of respect, she knows, but it's still disappointing. "Besides, it can be quite lonely without interruption." She smiles wide, inviting.

[errantknights]

Even if Martel did recognize her - the gods who have variously loved and loathed him are quite a few but none of them belong to worlds like that of the Greeks - he'd probably approach, if only out of curiosity. Respectfully, because her divinity hasn't left any scars on him, but he left awe behind a long time ago, replaced it with something more jaded.

"It'd be godawful ungentlemanly of me not to bother you, then," he suggests dryly, clasping his hands behind his back. (It's actually slightly uncomfortable to do that at the moment, but heaven forbid that actually stop him from doing it.) "This is an unfamiliar faith to me, I'm hoping not to misstep."

[at_thy_hearth]

Laughing softly, Hestia steps closer to him. Not too close but close enough to seem familiar and well-acquainted to onlookers. Being a goddess, though, everyone is familiar to her.

"I must be honest, then: someone will take your very existence as a misstep. My family is quite awful like that." She exaggerates...mostly. "But I suppose you are no stranger to the divine's wrath."