When Hades heard there was a woman at his gate, trying to abate Cerebus with a basket of quick breads, he'd expected to find an entirely different woman. This woman was short. She looked like she'd been sleeping as well as a beat poet, and eating as well as the skeleton of the maintenance man that stumbled in a few weeks ago and thought this was some kind of death themed amusement park. Short, desperate, too alive, and obviously in grief. Great. A female one of those. ( If she pulled out a violin, Hades was going to shoot her. )

It was rare this time of year that he was able to sit down and put his feet up on the tasseled hassock in his study. Which was why, as he settled into the cushy plumpness of his red velvet chair, Santa began mentally reviewing his to-do list for today. Did he really have time to enjoy his peppermint hot cocoa, or had he forgotten something that would require his attention?

( The List )

OOC Note: On November 1st

While he stood at Charon's dock that morning, Hades spent the time by listing all the things he needed to do. Hades needed to get Charon a speedboat.  He needed to get Charon a speedboat, and he needed to find out if Lottie worked with boats. Whether or not she worked with boats, he needed to make her work with Charon's speedboat and get it to go faster. He needed to invent the sort of teleportation that they did in Star Trek and then figure out how to make that work in the Underworld. He needed to move the entire Underworld closer to Olympus. ( He'd start with that. )

Hera was no longer livid. She had also moved past furious, enraged, choleric, incensed, outraged, fuming, and wrathful. She was not however beyond being affronted, provoked, chafed, galled, resentful, or downright pissed off. She was in a better frame of mind than she had been immediately following that disastrous family dinner in which Zeus was nothing but an ass, and a complete and utter ass at that, but her mood was still foul enough that she was aware of it. Oh, nobody had said anything; they probably thought they didn't dare. They were probably right. ( But Hera had made herself a promise, and she intended to keep it. )

He was not sure as to what he should do. He honestly doubted that this had ever come up before. In any pantheon’s part of the Underworld. Of course there was the fact that none of the other pantheons really did much mummification so if they had been in a similar situation, they would not have that part to deal with. Anubis didn’t know how to handle this at all. He needed to get some advice.

Anubis left the Necropolis and shifted to his full jackal form before he entered the mortal world. When he was thinking about things and trying to figure them out, he liked to wander the desert for a while until something came to him. That was always easier as a jackal. Easier and it drew a lot less attention. What was one more jackal walking around the pyramids? Anubis’ fur was just a lot darker than the average mortal animal. There were plenty of black-backed jackals, but Nubie was black all over. The down side being that it was harder to hide from Bast in a pack of jackals with his coloring.

( He kept thinking )

There was absolutely no way to announce your arrival at Phobetor's castle without feeling a bit ridiculous, at least not as far as Thanatos was concerned. He and Hades were already a few drinks into the evening when they arrived, though, to be fair, castle visits had never been on the agenda. Phobetor was supposed to meet them. In a bar. A bar that was not in his Transylvanian castle. But, after a few drinks, it became clear that he and Hades were being stood up. They might as well have been wearing prom dresses and headgear. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, with a few neat drinks already warming their godly insides, neither one of them decided to take a hint.

( And that was what led Than to the looming castle door, blatantly refusing to ring the doorbell. )

Her father's visit still had Hel reeling. It had been highly emotional for the both of them; things had been said that shouldn't have, others were things that should really have been spoken long ago. It would take time, she knew that, but Hel had a feeling the healing process had begun. Finally.

While her attitudes could not change overnight- centuries of feelings and beliefs took time to alter- now she at least had a few new phrases to remind herself each time she slipped into the old mindset. Words Loki had spoken that she held very tightly to. Hel knew that to cling to the things said was no less an obsession than holding to the old concepts, yet it was a better thing to be obsessed with.

One thing she never questioned was her father's word. He was many things, and Hel was not blind to his faults. Yet his honesty was never something that had been called into question, at least not where she was concerned. She knew, too, his absolute disdain for emotional outpourings, and with that knowledge she knew the truth of what he spoke.

What she needed now was a friend to talk to. Hel didn't have many of those, and only one that she had shared her past with in total honesty. Only Hades knew the whole story, from her point of view at least, and all the emotional trauma that had come with it. Just as she knew nearly all there was to know about him.

( Pity he was married. )

Churchill Downs was all a flutter with activity. Which made sense. It was the most exciting two days of the year at the Louisville, Kentucky track. Zeus had been on site since early yesterday. Mostly for networking purposes, as while he had interest in the Oaks -the filly race held on Friday, from a gambling side of things, he had other things on his mind. He had a horse in the Derby.

( It was a very tricky business, racing horses. )

There were two things that Hades particularly loved about the modern world. The first thing was cars. The second thing was Top Gear. Coincidentally, this sometimes also featured cars. His affinity had gotten particularly bad in the last twenty years. In the beginning they had been boxy and buggy and completely inferior to his horses, but then the fifties rolled around, and Hades somehow stumbled upon a 1957 Chevy Bel Air. Black. Realistic looking flames on the side. That glorious roar of the 502Ci GM crate engine with the Ramjet fuel injecti.......

Hades' horses were still better. Hades would not replace them for anything. Anything. ( But within the next 24 hours, all four of them had mysteriously decided it was time to retire )