Texas was not a state in America that Hera was overly fond of. It was populated by loud, boorish, overly-friendly, incredibly belligerent, extremely independent people. The only attribute Hera approved of in that list was the last one, and in combination with the rest it became as much a detriment as the others. However, it was, unfortunately, the home of the best peafowl hatchery that she'd been able to find in years.

As an excuse to follow through on her suggestion to Zeus that she speak with Zelos about his brother, it was not as terrible as it might appear, ( besides having to spend time in Texas )

The chase... was on.

It was a peculiar chase. It wasn't one he hadn't had to engage on in quite some time. Longer than he could recall, actually. But it was becoming necessary. It originally hadn't been necessary, it hadn't been necessary in centuries or even milleniea because he'd just grown so accustomed to it being there when he wanted it to be so that Zeus had been getting irritated at first.

( Hera was avoiding him )

Hera rarely avoided issues when they cropped up. She’d found delaying the moment when she had to face the problem never made said problem better, but rather usually led to further trouble. It was best to take care of something, unless there was a strategic reason to give pause that would benefit her in the end. But that had happened only a few times in her very long life, and those instances were such that she had simply had to wait for a more opportune moment to tackle the issue head-on, rather than outright avoidance.

( But this was different. )

OOC: After this.

She was biting tears back as hard as she could. Harmonia's first stop was not home, nor Lottie's -where she did occasionally stay from time to time, but the modest little temple she had on Olympus near her father's. She rarely went there so it seemed unlikely that Philotes would go there first once it was noticed that she left Anteros' without further explanation. She didn't do much other than give an extremely vague and brief explanation, via text so he didn't hear tears in her voice and demand further explanation or panic more than he probably already was, to Tyr that she was going to be mostly off radar for awhile but would check in with him here or there. Well, and pack a modest bag with a very minimal amount of necessities -she could purchase most anything else if she needed it. And the less she lingered the less likely it was that Philotes or someone else was going to want to tag along and help... and risk getting hurt in the process...

And Harmonia could not risk someone else getting hurt because of her. She stopped at her father's armory and did lift a few things that he would definitely know were missing, but, she didn't know what she could run into -anywhere, and wanted to be prepared. He'd understand. ( He was the one that made sure she knew how to use it all anyway. )

Hera's fingers trailed over the rough stone, remembering a time when what she was touching was smooth, polished marble. There was a single column left here at Heraion, the rest of the massive temple was nothing more than ruins. All around her was the evidence of the passage of time, and neglect, everything here nothing but a shadow of a memory of what had once been. But there was one pedestal top that seemed almost untouched. It had been moved from it's original position, and though it was now stacked on rubble with a few visible flaws, the top was still smooth and wide and the decorative trim still readily visible. It was a pedestal Hera remembered very well.

Truthfully, after her encounter in this very temple, Samos had become ( a very important place to her. )

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. )

Harmonia was laying in her bed at her mother's temple on Olympus. It was one in the afternoon and she was in bed. She wasn't in her nightshirt anymore and the bed was made, but at some point while fixing her hair she got distracted and ended up spread out back across the comforter. Though, distracted was an understatement. Harmonia was obsessing.

There had been nothing but pleasant dreams for the past few weeks, far happier than anything she had dreamed in thousands of years, and each morning she actually woke feeling refreshed and ready to take on the day. Except as she ran a brush through her hair, she had made the mistake of looking at the note she stuck to her mirror so as not to lose it. And then she made the additional mistake of taking it down, opening it, reading it again and then flopping face down on the bed in a mixed mess of emotions.

( Oh, she was excited, make no mistake about it. )

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 )

It was not often that Hera did something of this fashion for her husband. Frankly there were too many risks involved. Too many things could become emotional landmines, waiting to be stepped on by unwary, careless feet, and she really did hat to start the day with a metaphorical explosion. ( Even if Zeus sometimes thought otherwise. )

Hera was no longer livid. She had also moved past furious, enraged, choleric, incensed, outraged, fuming, and wrathful. She was not however beyond being affronted, provoked, chafed, galled, resentful, or downright pissed off. She was in a better frame of mind than she had been immediately following that disastrous family dinner in which Zeus was nothing but an ass, and a complete and utter ass at that, but her mood was still foul enough that she was aware of it. Oh, nobody had said anything; they probably thought they didn't dare. They were probably right. ( But Hera had made herself a promise, and she intended to keep it. )

Deimos was miserable.

He was dressed in his nicest, non-suit-and-tie clothes, which in this case were crisply pressed Dockers (brand new--it was the only way they'd be wrinkle free because he sure as hell wasn't gonna pick up an iron), a white button-down shirt with a light blue pinstripe, black socks, black penny loafers, and a black fedora. ( At least he'd been able to find mostly black clothes. )

Posting Order: Zeus, Hera, Eris, Enyo, Hebe

This had to have been Hera's idea, he thought to himself as he drummed his fingers along the table in the informal dining room of his palace on Olympus. It wasn't that he despised his children with Hera, quite the opposite in terms of Hebe and Illythia, but some of them were quite difficult and tended to cause him moments of disgust where Zeus couldn't help but wonder if it was really worth claiming them as his own. Three troublemakers: Ares, Enyo and Eris. They tended to cause him more headache than pride. ( True, they could be useful, but that was only on an occasional basis and he didn't find there was ever much need to interact with them when they weren't needed. )

Hera had spent a considerable amount of time and effort in cultivating a very specific facade that she wished to show the world. That included, frequently, members of her own family. There were many, many things that she kept from her children, as she assumed all mothers did. They were not friends, after all, but lives she had been responsible for shaping and nurturing. They did not need to know all of her personal secrets. Nor, no matter what he may think, did her husband. He, especially, did not need to know all that went on in her heart or her life. Particularly if it were something he could use to hurt her, deliberately or inadvertently. He did very well in that task as it was.

But her family saw more of her true self than the rest of the pantheon did. Oh, she knew very well what others thought of her, how they saw her. How those of other pantheons judged her, that was within her ken as well. Hera was hardly as self-absorbed as some might paint her, and she was well aware of the way others viewed her and her supposed attitude. She was aware, because it was what she wanted them to think. It was the reputation that she'd created for herself.

( Not at first. )

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. )

After the messy business of tracking down a wayward nymph and dealing with not only the paperwork involved, but all of the collateral irritation because of her husband's involvement with one of the players, Hera was more than ready for a break. Unfortunately, she was not exactly in the position of simply being able to put a “gone fishin'” sign on her office door and stepping out. There were a thousand little things that had to be dealt with, people that needed to be motivated, things to be put in place, just so that she could have a few moments of time to herself without worrying about interruption later. It took time, but finally, she was set. She was free.

( Now... what to do with herself? )

Hera frowned at the screen in front of her, scanning through the names again.  It wasn’t there this time any more than it had been the previous two times she had done the same thing.  She slowed down, scrolling down very carefully, her finger moving the mouse by small increments through the spreadsheet, just in case she had missed it the first few times.  Or perhaps it had been misplaced, somehow logged out of alphabetical order.

( But no. )