Hera, Idun, open to anyone After leaving a conversation with Frigg and Odin that had been both enlightening and aggravating at the same time, Hera distinctly felt the need for a liquid pick-me-up. But since she didn't want to stay near the drinks table where Frigg had been lingering with her godsdamned straw, Hera moved away from that area to one that was set up like a proper bar. Along the way, she'd let go of Zeus' arm as she wove through the crowd, certain he'd find her again when he got a drink of his own.
The situation was an odd one to say the least. It was not often that a god went missing, abducted or otherwise. If Odin and Frigg were to be believed, Bragi was nowhere they could find him. And while they may have hinted at the suggestion that it may have been a Greek responsible, Hera found that thought unlikely. What reason would one of hers have to take a Norse god that by all accounts was genial and unconfrontational? No, it was far more likely, she mused, that it was one of his brethren. After all, familiarity bred contempt. It was why most murders and assaults in the mortal realm were committed by someone the victim knew. Hera assumed it was the same here. And while they had become far more likely to mingle between pantheons, the Norse were still the most likely suspects.
Whether Frigg and Odin liked to admit it or not.
Shortly, she would find her messenger. Iris had some contacts within the Norse pantheon, and that could prove useful. The more information at her disposal, the better prepared she would be to deal with whatever this mess truly was. After she was done dealing with this mess at the bar. Really, did people not understand courtesy these days?
“Excuse me,” she said, finally, a bit frostily. “You are blocking the way.”