Hermod had stood in his bedroom without moving for at least twenty minutes after Bast had left him. It didn’t even occur to him that he should put his clothes on. He was just too stunned to think about anything. She had left him. For some unknown reason, she had left him.

( What the...? )

Bast wasn't even sure what day it was when she finally woke from an alcohol induced coma. At least, not until she checked her phone, which already had a text message on it from Ninkasi. Apparently she was going to take Bast's advice and stick her hand down Kratos' pants, once he arrived.

It took a day and a half, several showers, and a lot of water before Bast felt even close to normal. ( Damn tequila. )

It had been a couple months since Sigyn had opened the door to find Frigg on her porch. The gift that had been left on her steps had been kicked aside and would have been left to rot in the rain had she not known that it would have prompted questions from Loki. Questions she didn't want to answer. So she'd thrown the thing way, whatever it was, and had only told Loki that Frigg had contacted her to say she was sorry. She didn't tell him that she'd shown up at their home. Or about Frigg's parting words. ( But Sigyn could not forget them. )

Bast enjoyed hunting. There was something exhilarating about tracking something or somebody down, following the trail left to find the big prize. And it wasn't always something animate or tangible that she hunted, occasionally it was a treat she felt she deserved but could not immediately have. That was true in this case, though her target was definitely not inanimate.

( After Halloween, the morning after, the hunt began. )

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. )

There was an oddly thoughtful expression on Enyo's face as she turned out of the New London Theater in Covent Garden. It was a strange little pleasure of hers, not one that she openly shared with anyone under any normal circumstances -only select family members knew as far as she was aware, but everyone had something. A dirty little secret, a guilty pleasure that went against what everyone thought they knew.

With Violence, it was theater. Well... and the collection, but even fewer knew about her collection.

It wasn't just any theater, though. She was not a fan of comedies, mostly because the majority of the mortal population didn't share her sense of humor at all. Tragedies, as they were called, appealed to her a great deal. Pain, suffering, in some cases death... those she enjoyed. Dramas as well. Eris was occasionally tricky enough to talk her into something that left her rigid with annoyance. ( There was a strong possibility that her twin did it just to see if Enyo would explode or go on a mass theater homicidal rampage. )

One of the things about life, good or bad, was that it marched inexorably onward. Things were still unsettled and up in the air, but her pantry was empty. So despite not knowing how things were with Idun and Bragi, since no one bothered to tell them anything, Sigyn set out to walk to the one grocery store in Nowthen. Unsurprisingly, Loki liked being fed.

True, she could have handled things differently. It wasn’t as though they needed to do things the mortal way. But Sigyn had found that she liked interacting with the people in the little town. It had been only her and Loki in the cave for so long, just the two of them with only the occasional visit from Hel or Idun, with only temporary escapes for herself every century or so. Being around others again was almost heady.

( And it was a real treasure to be able to walk in the sunshine. )

Harmonia was freaking out.

Alright, freaking out might have been the understatement of the century, but she had herself so worked up without anyone to really talk to about it that she was making herself sick. This was how she ended up in San Francisco. She had made the mistake of googling, finally, what Valentine's Day was. When she found it, she read the first few paragraphs of the wikipedia entry and very nearly had a coronary. She didn't even get into the history yet when she stood up and raided Lottie's liquor cabinet, did three shots of tequila because it was the first bottle she saw, and decided she needed to do something that was the polar opposite of what the read in those first few paragraphs.

( She went to Alcatraz. )

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 )

The family meeting was over. He wasn’t really certain if it was for family or for those most likely to be affected by Ragnarok. Then again, almost all those most likely to be affected were in his family. And Freyr. And all of Loki’s family, too. Even Sleipnir was mentioned in the prophecy. Hermod didn’t like thinking about that. Any of it. He was happier when he knew nothing about the stupid thing.

( Odin had left them... )

If there was one thing Hermes wasn't, it was a social misfit. Another thing he could never be accused of was a disdain for idle gossip. Hermes loved talking and he loved listening, and he enjoyed it even more if the topic was about someone else. He and Iris had spent countless hours over the years discussing the lives of others. As Messengers to the Highest of the Highs on Olympus, Hermes found it easy to justify. Always good to know what was what when talking with Zeus, and he was sure Iris also appreciated a head's up on events that sometimes flew under the radar in her dealings with Hera.

( Unfortunately, nothing much was going on in their world. )

OOC note: Posting order is Odin, Frigg, Hermod, Tyr, Bragi, Vidar

He sat with all the appearance of patience, slowly sipping a mug of mead. To anyone passing by, Odin would look as if he hadn't a care in the world. On the inside, however, his mind was racing and he felt just a bit nervous.

( There was every possibility this would not go as well as he hoped. )

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. )

Hermod had finished getting dressed and was looking at himself in the mirror. He straightened his tie and smoothed down his hair. He had someone coming to look at his horses today and wanted to look his best. The ranch manager had told him the daughter of some rich, important man had been looking for a pony and had heard about them from somewhere. He hoped that if she found a pony she liked then maybe he could convince her to donate to his miniature horse helpers. He always welcomed any help he could get with the assistance animals.

( He folded his suit jacket )