Zeus: King of the Gods (theos_hypsistos) wrote in deities_dot_com, @ 2014-12-26 22:15:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ~kratos, ~zeus |
Reaching Out [tag: Kratos]
At least the weather was pleasant thus far, he decided, leaning over the rail and looked out at the crisp Caribbean waters. Deciding to speak to Kratos was the easy part, even after his conversation with Hera. The where and when was a bit more... complicated of a matter. No matter what her thoughts might be. Oh, certainly she always thought he was paranoid and looked too deeply into matters, but that paranoia is what had helped keep them successfully where they still were. Few other pantheons could say that now could they?
Why did Hera have to go out of her way to make it so difficult to love her sometimes?
That aside, at the risk of nosy nymphs or unnecessary interruptions, Zeus was not having this conversation on Olympus. Not to mention that there was something about trying summoning the boy to discuss anything of this nature in his office that would seem like he was reprimanding him. Which, until he knew what was going on, nothing could be further from the truth. Not when Kratos was more loyal than his own damn children were by a thousand miles or more.
Also, there was a concern that if Kratos felt cornered he might not divulge anything and Hera had made a good point... the son of Styx had a rather unique relationship with him. Which means Zeus had to approach this as he might with one of his children by blood, one of those he actually gave more than a passing damn about, that was.
Which led to consideration of the yacht. Zeus didn't think it would have been the first time Kratos would have been on it. He'd had minor social gatherings before on it, some even with his brother present to keep Poseidon happy. But, he'd also found it perfect for having quiet reprieves with Apollo, or Hermes... or anyone else he chose. The staff was extremely minimal and stayed below deck unless told otherwise.
Mid-afternoon in the outer harbor, where they were anchored at Saint Barths... where the rich, beautiful and famous disappeared for the winter; that was where he would relax and wait. It had been voiced as an invitation -with a subtle urging of importance, but not an order. In five minutes, if he was still alone, he'd call upon one of the few staff on the boat to bring him a scotch.