Enyo: Goddess of War, Violence and Blood (bathesinblood) wrote in deities_dot_com, @ 2013-03-11 20:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | ~enyo, ~hybris |
Have I Told You Lately [tag: Hybris]
The crackling in the fireplace was common this time of year, though she didn't really frequent her Bucharest home during the winter months. However, given the circumstances, the company she had requested the presence of and the topic of which Enyo wanted to discuss were not appropriate for Olympus at all. Not if she wanted to keep this under wraps and try to instigate a war between pantheons anyway. Which she most definitely did.
Enyo just hoped Hybris was willing to leave her pet for a time and come gloat about him. Well, and Enyo was hoping she could get something out of Hybris that she could use to taunt the Norse with a bit. Like a lock of hair, a bit of clothing... he was a poet, right? Maybe an audio recording of him singing a dirge while one of them played with him, that was something that could be easily sent anonymously to Asgard. Maybe Bragi would even cry. If not voluntarily, Enyo would be happy to make him cry.
Well, if Hybris would let her. But they got on, they sometimes played the same game with the same goals in mind. Certainly Hybris would let her play with him.
She was sitting in a chair upholstered in a fine dark brocade with deep mahogany wood. There was matching table just across the coffee table from her, both near the fire. No matter what she did, the old building Enyo had fine tuned into a perfect residence for herself was still rather drafty in the winter months. On the table was a tray with a bottle of merlot that was opened and breathing properly before being poured, two glasses -it was assumed Hybris would join her and would partake, and a small plate of canapes.
Impatiently, she looked at the ornately engraved wall clock and frowned. When had she called the Underworlder? Five, maybe ten minutes ago?
Patience had never been her strongest suit.
While waiting her fingertips drummed on the arm of the chair. Then she turned her head. Someone was in the room with her. Looking, her eyes landed upon one of the three attendants she kept at the house with a fluffy stick in her hand that she was waving at the polished furniture surfaces. Enyo was a bit more tolerant of her Romanian attendants -they were diligent and relatively obedient even if they weren't the brightest bulbs in the box at times. But, she could forgive the stupidity for the more important reason that they kept the old building from falling into absolute ruin when Enyo wasn't there. They cleaned and made repairs.
“What are you doing?” She asked the plump woman with a definite bit of irritation to her voice.
The woman looked up, “Dusting, madam.”
Enyo frowned. “Can you do that elsewhere? I'm expecting someone and if any of the dust you are stirring up ends up in my wine or on the canapes you will be eating that duster. Understood?”