The tribal warriors in his brain pan had not let up on the drums, despite some resolution being reached with Komos, and his plans derailed, Dionysus eventually slunk out of his sun-drenched office to seek the solace of his private apartments. The pounding of the shower evicted half the warriors, and it was with a clearer head that Dionysus shrugged on a pair of jeans and wandered into the living room. The perfectly neat, ordered living room. Every artifact, each book and stick of furniture perfectly and artfully arranged, all seem to mock the seething thoughts that had clouded his mind for days, and he sought first a bottle, then the remote.
Thumbing through random channels, Dionysus let the pure, crisp wine flow over his tongue, until between one click and the next, a flash of pure ridiculousness caught his attention, and a slow, wide smile found its shape on his lips.
Bare feet propped up on the couch, the god reached for his phone, and paused a moment. In the couple of days since he and Apollo had trashed his office, he and Brandon had managed only a few text messages and one call. Apollo, Artemis, Amaya... there was no need to go through the rest of the alphabet to list the reasons why, but both of them easily could have, he knew. The boy deserved better company than the god was likely to prove, but Dionysus had never pretended not to be selfish, and he typed out a quick text and hit send.
How do you feel about mutated killer snakes and pizza?-D