Rosmerta sat back and admired her handiwork. It looked, if she did say so herself, wonderful. It looked just like those ransom notes on the old television shows, with all the cut out magazine letters. Totally cheesy. And she was rather proud of it.

( Of course, she was rather proud of herself in general these days. )

The sounds from the reed pipe were soothing. The melodic tones never failed to relax his mind, and for someone like Hermes, whose mind was a constant whirl of activity filled with webs of barely connected threads of thought, it was almost miraculous. It helped that here, in one of his many meadows, he was also gazing upon his animals. They only added to that sense of peace.

( Sometimes it seems to Hermes that everyone always thinks it's all about the cows. )

The place was packed, which was how it was supposed to be. There were costumes everywhere... also exactly how it was supposed to be. Because it was Halloween. It was also Chicago and Americans went all crazy for the holiday. On top of that, it was Thirsty Thursday, something everyone in the American Midwest was familiar with. Professional drinkers, this lot, and Ninkasi loved them for it. Most of the costumed were immortal in some way, not just gods but nymphs and the like as well, but she was clearly allowing an occasional mortal in as well. There were rules outside to her bouncers for screening them properly.

Shortly, the specialty taps would be opened and her private brews would begin to flow. Which is what, she was sure, Kratos was hoping and/or waiting for. ( Wherever he was. )

The viewer will see a large desk with Hermes behind it. A whiskey bottle is off to his right beside two glasses.

Hermes: Hello, again. Welcome to another episode of Coffee, Tea, or Whiskey- where the answer is always whiskey. I'm The Messenger, and I will be pouring out the drinks, as well as serving up the latest gossip. For those of you joining us for the first time, or for those of you who got drunk with me in the last episode and don't remember, I have a couple of disclaimers. The people are real, but some of the names are changed to protect the innocent...namely, me!

Also, not everything I tell you is the truth. As I get drunker, I'm more likely to lie. Or maybe I'm lying now, and more likely to tell the truth as we go along. I leave it to you to decide what is fact and what is fiction.

Today I have a special guest with me in the studio. He got a bad rap many years ago, and is finally oot and aboot again, and I for one am glad he's back. The world was a little duller for a while there, folks. With that, I'm very happy to introduce my old friend, The Torch. Say hello to the viewers, Torchman.

( Camera pans out to reveal Loki behind the other half of the desk. )

And now they waited...

Bes' friendship was proving to be such a, for lack of a better word, godsend that Loki wasn't sure where he'd have been without him. It gave him a better grasp on how the world had changed and gave him a change of pace when he needed some man-time. Sigyn was amazing and he loved her, but sometimes... sometimes he needed a friend who wasn't anything more than that. Odin and Thor had once filled that need, but then things went horribly wrong. Plus his kinsmen seemed to always have qualifications attached to their friendships with him -they were his friend as long as he was useful to them. So far, Bes seemed to not have qualifications in their friendship. It was a foreign concept to Loki but one he was glad to experience.

So, when Loki needed advice on what he should add to his man-cave... he called Bes.( he called Bes. )

The cacophony of sound was raucous and nearly violent, spreading out in rippling bursts of noise that mirrored the damage being done to the pristine lawns that covered most of the mountain. When the percussion section began, it only grew louder and clouds of dust rose as the bricks from the walkway were clapped together. But it led to a good deal of dancing, which only made the singers whoop louder in appreciation. Then somebody accidentally stepped on one of opossums, and the shrieks joined in with the whooping and the hollering and somebody started with the first zaghareet, which was swiftly followed by an entire chorus. There was absolutely no doubt:( Dionysus was back on Olympus. )

Hermes was used to trouble. Usually, he instigated it, or at least had a hand in it somewhere. Occasionally, however rarely, it had little to nothing to do with him. This was one of those cases. He wouldn't even be involved if not for his father's request.

The Norse were still all up in arms (figuratively, so far, thank all that was holy) over their missing god. To the point where Zeus thought it was worth at least a show of concern and sent Hermes off to double check the Underworld. It made sense; he was a messenger there, and no one would suspect his presence.

Even so, he made a quick stop off at Hades' for the cap. He really didn't have any idea where the Underworlder was at, but he wasn't in his temple, making it almost too easy for Hermes to lift the invisibility weilder. He'd had harder times than this, making him think everything was so easy there was no way he would find anything. And for a while he didn't.

( One thing about messengers... )

One of the few problems with being Hermes was needing to decide who to spend an evening with. Others might think it sounded pompous (and it partially was), but he knew so many people that it sometimes made it difficult to make a choice. On such occasions, he usually just threw a party, and got them all over with in one shot. But Hermes had not been in a party mood. He was feeling like experiencing something a little cozier.

Which still left the question of who to spend the evening with. Peitho or Rosmerta? It was still a tough call, after all this time, but Mert won out. Probably only because she was far enough away he didn't get to see her as much, and he honestly missed her. He sent her a message, inviting her for the evening.

( To his delight, she was available. )

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 )

If there was one thing Hermes wasn't, it was a social misfit. Another thing he could never be accused of was a disdain for idle gossip. Hermes loved talking and he loved listening, and he enjoyed it even more if the topic was about someone else. He and Iris had spent countless hours over the years discussing the lives of others. As Messengers to the Highest of the Highs on Olympus, Hermes found it easy to justify. Always good to know what was what when talking with Zeus, and he was sure Iris also appreciated a head's up on events that sometimes flew under the radar in her dealings with Hera.

( Unfortunately, nothing much was going on in their world. )

It was a good show.

Zeus had seen pretty much every major show in Vegas over the years. “Pretty much” instead of a definitive statement because he wasn't as fond of the musical headliner acts -a la Celine Dion, and tended to avoid them. But, he was quite fond of Cirque du Soliel. There was only one show of Ciruqe's that he hadn't seen yet and that wasn't for any lack of desire. It was for lack of opportunity and proper company that would appreciate it.

So when Hermes agreed to join him for a night of frivolity on the strip, he decided it was time to see Zumanity over at the New York, New York. They could easily see the show before heading over to the Bellagio -Zeus' favored hotel/casino for betting his money. ( Anything to get away from Olympus and the memory of that horrid dinner he had been privy to. )

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 )

“What about these, Ma'am,” the clerk at Jimmy Choo's in New York asked the Goddess of the Rainbow as she handed her a box. Iris looked down at the shoes being offered. This was difficult. Jimmy Choo was her favorite designer when it came to shoes and she found herself unable to decide between the now four pairs in front of her.

She knew that she was planning on shopping today, mostly for accessories, which was why she was wearing a black pencil skirt with a simple white blouse. She wanted to be as blank a canvas as possible. She slipped off one pair of shoes she had been trying on and slipped on the newly offered pair.

( Standing before a mirror, she frowned. )