In the end, it had turned out alright. Better than alright, really. The mortals were right about one thing, make up sex was indeed unbelievable. Then again, since reuniting with her husband sex was always unbelievable. The man had figured out a thing or two at last, and her added willingness could only add to the experience. When sex stops becoming a duty you feel you are required to fulfill, and starts to become a request and something to look forward to, the outcome is naturally going to be far different.

In retrospect, Sif was easily able to see the amount of restraint that Thor had possessed, how much he had tried to prevent a full out war between the two of them. He'd refused to rise to her challenge, taking the high road and once again putting the majority of the blame on himself. Sif, on the other hand, could hardly blame him for his concern. As far as she was concerned, the blame lay with herself. And Loki. It seemed after everything that had happened, he still hadn't learned when to keep his mouth shut. But she also knew how incredibly intimidated he must have been, running into Thunder like that. People say stupid things when they are nervous. Or they say nothing, which was her crime in the matter. She still found it amazing that it wasn't the kiss but her silence about it that had upset Thor more.

There were stories that once told of hoof beats that echoed through the land as the sun began its ascent into the sky. It was said that Epona, Goddess of horses, rode on her favorite mare chasing after the moon as it was being chased by the sun. They said that Epona loved the night, and that she loved the moon for it was her companion when she stood vigil over the horses in her herd.

( Time wore on... )

Loki didn't get seasick. It would have been an extreme bit of irony if one who could turn into a fish at will would succumb to the rise and fall of water's wake. Instead of hanging his head in defeat over the edge of the lovely boat Hel had gifted him, he laid out on the bow, engine turned off and relaxed with his hands crooked under his head and one leg cocked up. It was a thoughtful position, one prompted by that which it inspired - thought.

He was a deeper thinker than many ever gave him credit for. While it usually revolved around some way to spend the time, it occasionally delved into more important matters such as: what was he doing with his life, was he staying true to himself, and so forth. Usually the deeper thoughts were riddled with mention of Sigyn. If he was doing right by her or not. ( The answer, was generally a solid 'no.' )

Selene forced herself to slow down. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, but there was no reason for her body to move that fast. It was a beautiful day in Chicago, and the moon goddess was finally venturing out into her new neighborhood. It was the perfect day for exploring, and it gave her an excuse not to dwell upon Iris' request.

Unfortunately it was the only thing she could think about. Selene had hoped a brisk walk would help clear her mind, but at the moment it was still muddled. A growling from her stomach soon cleared out any thoughts about her predicament as she searched for a place to eat.

The sign read Hackney's Printers' Row. It looked promising and the aroma made her stomach growl louder. Selene was quickly seated with a menu. Everything sounded so good, especially the house specialty, the Hackneyburger. She quickly settled on a French Dip with a glass of Tucher Hefe Weiss.

The first sip of beer went down smoothly as she contimplated her situation. Somehow she, who made an effort to never get involved, had agreed to ask her nephew Zephyrus what his plans were. It was a simple enough task, but she was worried about how to pull it off with arousing any suspicions from her nephew.

"Hey Zeph, welcome back. So how long you hanging around this time?" 'Yeah, that'd work," Selene remarked sarcastically to herself. Long time no see, ya plan on sticking around? Each one was more ridiculous than the last, and soon the Titan was giggling to herself.

She still hadn't figured out how she was going to broach the question that Iris needed an answer to, but it was time. Now all she needed to do was find Zephyrus.

Enyo stared at the empty rack before her in the wine cellar of her Bucharest home, bewildered.

As if having to travel from Thessaloniki to Bucharest by car hadn't been bad enough, now she was out of wine. At least Ares had seen fit to let her travel stylishly between the two cities in a very fashionable convertible, but that didn't strike out the fact that it was done because she couldn't just go where she wanted when she wanted. It was one thing to ride in a car because one wanted to, it was another thing altogether to have to do it because one lacked other options.

( But the wine. It was gone. )

Apate was not usually one for drinking in public. She actually wasn’t one for drinking until drunk period. It dulled the senses, made you slow, made you a target. She had, on more than one occasion, taken great advantage of someone else’s lowered inhibitions, and she fully expected that treatment in return should she be foolish enough to become inebriated.

But even if she hadn’t been rattled by her recent exchange with Loki, even if she hadn’t been haunted by the look on his face before he left, she would have had a hard time resisting the wiry, little man with a squirt bottle full of rice wine who kept running around the restaurant screaming, “More saki, more happy!” He was the personification of persistence, and he’d already gotten Apate to drink far more than she’d wanted to. ( Twice. )

Whistling, Bes ran his palms across the top of his head, smoothing the hairs in place. He winked at his reflection in the bathroom cabinet, flinging his pointer fingers at the handsome dude in the mirror, thumbs up, gunslinger style.

"Hot, baby! Yes indeedy!"

His shirt was clean and wrinkle free, as wrinkle free as a t-shirt could stay. It portrayed a high ball glass and a bottle of booze, with the snarky tag line "Let me fill you up, Baby!"  A small diamond earring twinkled in each ear. Bes liked jewelry, but not the overly ostentatious stuff "gangstas" liked to wear. He did have taste, unlike those over the top, cool, tough boy wannabees.

The sun that shone down upon the land illuminated every nook and cranny that morning. Dew glistened upon leaves and blades of grass, giving the earth the scent of rebirth. Epona stepped onto the grass with gentle steps, her simple brown skirt trailed behind her as she walked through the empty field. Caerwyn followed close behind the goddess, whinnying softly and shaking her mane to release the moisture from it. Epona looked over her shoulder, smiling at her faithful companion with nothing but love and kindness.

“We will find her,” Epona said. Her voice resonated confidence as she continued toward the grove of trees in the distance. The goddess and her mount had spent most of their night under the light of the moon, chasing it to the furthest horizon before the sun peered over the edge of the land. It was then that Epona had sensed something amiss with a pregnant mare in her herd, and she and Caerwyn rushed back to the orchard to tend to it. But the mare was gone, having left the others in order to foal on her own.

( The goddess worried if only because it was much too early for the foaling. )

Every hammering glass against the counter top rang inside of his ears. Dimly lit surroundings cast no shining light on the reasons for why he was here. He was here for the same reasons all of the time, even if the place changed its name or its patrons. It never changed its menu, and for that reason he always came whenever the urge called him towards the brightly lit signs—signs displaying what they had to offer within the comfort of their walls. The monotony that was his life became utterly known to him in those moments when he gave into cravings no better than the ones suffered by belligerent mortal alcoholics.

( However, it passed away the time nicely. )

Two weeks had passed since Bast had come to her home for help. It had eventually turned out to be a pleasant day for the mother and daughter.  They spent much of the day just lounging about, once Bast had recovered from her injuries, and enjoyed a good deal of pleasant conversation, plenty of wine, and several bowls of Cocoa Puffs (of which Isis flat out refused to partake in).

She'd had a rude awakening, learning her daughter had first chosen another person for comfort before herself, but she tried to put herself in Bast's shoes and see it for what it was. At least she went to someone even her mother trusted. All in all, she could see why Kitten would have gone to Bes first, and understood that at least part of it was to avoid worrying her mother, something else the Queen could understand.

It had been a long time since Hermod had last been home; two or three months at least. Frigg was probably starting to miss him by now. He knew he had to make seeing his mother a top priority, but their were other there that he wanted to see as well. He would have to figure out who he wanted to see the most and go from there. He had until he crossed the Bifrost Bridge before he had to decide anyway. So all he really had to do to put off that decision was to cross the bridge slowly.

( Who was he trying to kid? )

Hedylogos was not the sneaky type. Nor was he the type to even bother trying to sneak anything... normally. But ever since Sigyn's attempt to wither away he made sure to find ways to be certain that it wouldn't happen again. Even if that meant doing his fair share of sneaking around. When he was in corpus anyway.

The only bit of sneaking that ever occurred involved a few quiet trips to Asgard and some even quieter conversations with Idun over whether or not apples had been taken by Sigyn as they should be. Idun would know, and she would certainly alert Hedylogos if something was amiss. His Nordic sister may have not been verging on breakdown again, but every so often Flattery thought he saw a touch of tiredness in her eyes.

( Or maybe his perception was going. )

Her temple didn't feel very warm anymore. Aphrodite knew why it didn't feel warm. All of her attendants combined couldn't keep the Goddess pleased at all. Her children had tried, she was happy with them, could be at least, but when they were gone it was just lonely. Eros was simply a call away and she knew Eros could feel why Aphrodite was so off-kilter. She was missing something. There was a connection that had been broken and that had never happened before. Not over the years and years of infidelity on both sides. But that last strand broken, Ares cut it completely and Aphrodite was left trying to pick herself up.

( Problem was.. )

She owed Bes. She owed Bes big time, because not only had he patched her up to the best of his ability, he’d not forced her to go to her mother though she knew he wanted to, plus tending to her wasn’t exactly shake-your-booty fun times. And Bes liked shake-your-booty fun times. Bast loved to watch his eyes light up when he was having a good time.

His eyes had definitely not lit up the last time she’d dropped on his doorstep. So she owed him, and though it couldn’t repay all he’d done, Bast intended to take him out for a night on the town. In New Orleans, that could mean anything from a quiet dinner with some dancing afterwards to the sorts of escapades that landed one in jail. She was going to aim for the latter. ( But she wasn’t going to show up on his doorstep empty handed. )

Philotes was growing increasingly frustrated, which was not a state she had much experience with. Which only increased her frustration. But she’d just about reached the end of her rope. Usually, she had no problems at all talking to people, and not just because of her aspect. She genuinely liked almost everybody, found them to be interesting and got along with people. But even with the added boost of being the Goddess of Friendship and Affection, she kept running into a brick wall here.

( Which, she reflected, was a pretty good description of the god currently driving her around the bend. )

The visit was unannounced. The manager and the trainers, undoubtedly, thought this was done deliberately so as to check up on their handling of the stables. In fact, their actions were nothing short of impeccable as far as Zeus could see. Of course, he could be missing something, it wasn’t as though he had a direct hand in the day to day operations of the Kentucky horse farm. That wasn’t what he’d bought it for.

( It was for entertainment. )

OOC: Warning for gore and animal sacrifice. This is not a friendly thread for those easily squicked.

War was pissed off.

Not sad, not ambivalent, not simply frustrated or angry. Full out rage was consuming her. It wasn't want she wanted, far from it actually, and it angered her even more to know she hadn't gotten her way. Nike had done as she was told and escorted the exiled goddess off the mountain. Except that the goddess portion of her had been left behind.

She was mortal and she was stuck. It meant that Concept didn't work when she tried to step out of Litochoro, Greece and into her home in Bucharest to wait it out. It meant screaming in frustration for some of her more trusted family members didn't work. She was going to have to take normal, mortal transportation to get where she wanted and Enyo was not at all pleased to know it was going to take an awful long time to get to Bucharest.

( At least far longer than she was used to it taking. )

Paris.

One of the capitals of fashion in the civilized world and by far one of Iris' favorite places to shop. Though occasionally it wasn't the quality and practicality of fashion that brought her into a boutique shop specializing in couture garments. Sometimes it was the absolute horridness of what she saw in the window that drew her in, if for no other reason than pure amusement. It was rather like the things one saw in high fashion magazines, such as Harper's Bazaar, things that should be classified as bizarre and not fashionable at all.

( Whatever people who wore, created or modeled high fashion were thinking, Iris had no idea. )

Part of Makaria felt very very different. But mostly she felt exactly the same as she did before. Just happier. Not that she was unhappy before Morpheus came along, just not complete. Her father might not have approved, she didn't know, and she found herself not caring about it either. She was sure her mother would approve, well, after hearing about it. Was she going to tell them she was in love? Makaria didn't know. The night was a deathly cold, and the moon hung down and cast moonlight on the street below. Makaria had busied herself with work for the past few weeks. She returned when she could to the apartment but she didn't want to crowd Morpheus either.

She didn't want to smother him. Was that possible? Would he feel that way? Makaria really had no idea but enough movies about things like that made her worry. Made her over think little things. She needed to ask him, maybe one day. Maybe never. She was still shy, even if she'd.. Thinking about it made her turn pink. She hung in the shadows of the corner, watching the side walk for her next soul. The clock was ticking, she could hear it in her head. Enter subject one, the time over his head wasn't nearly down yet, wasn't him. Bystander.

( Two minutes on the clock. )