A spot of drool slowly dried on Dionysus' shoulder; a souvenir of shifting his slumbering-like-the-dead brother from one bed into another, and the god wandered the labyrinth of hallways in the section of the club where his family was housed. The meandering route was unnecessary, as the rooms of all with whom he was closest were within easy reach of his own apartments, and moreover, with a thought, the god could have appeared in any of them. After the mysteries and all that came after, however, Dionysus found himself lulled into a calm by meandering aimlessly, perhaps because when he'd been truly mad and lost, the earth herself had opened her arms to him and offered succor. Unfortunately, Cybele was not to be found in the richly appointed halls of the Labyrinth.
The rubbing at his temples as if to erase the pressures held within his skull had become habitual, and the god groaned as he caught himself doing so again. Hours had passed since Gideon had been left sleeping, and Hermes now slumbered as well, but Dionysus himself could not shut his eyes without rage and jealousy winding up and taking form, devouring all hope of peace and rest.
Eventually, his steps led him to a door, and while he could have easily simply entered, the god knocked instead. There were many responsibilities, obligations and problems to which he should, needed to attend. People, beloved and otherwise, with whom he needed to confer, but first...