At least the weather was pleasant thus far, he decided, leaning over the rail and looked out at the crisp Caribbean waters. Deciding to speak to Kratos was the easy part, even after his conversation with Hera. The where and when was a bit more... complicated of a matter. No matter what her thoughts might be. Oh, certainly she always thought he was paranoid and looked too deeply into matters, but that paranoia is what had helped keep them successfully where they still were. Few other pantheons could say that now could they?

( Why did Hera have to go out of her way to make it so difficult to love her sometimes?  )

Kratos was a patient guy. He had the strength of will to wait for things when it was required, and he didn't really get anxious about the passage of time. Because most of the time, what he was waiting on had little to do with his personal life, and more to do with his job. And even when it was something that was closer to the heart, it was more likely that he'd be calmly waiting for a resolution than seeking to force the issue. It just wasn't his style.

( But this was different. )

She was only a little bit chicken shit. At least that was her argument when she texted Bast to tell her where she was an that since Kratos wasn't home, she had to wait outside. That's what Ninkasi was going to do, anyway. The idea of calling or sending him a text -or something, to try to coordinate schedules or something was just going to create a ridiculous build up of anxiety and honestly, it was easier if she just... sat vigil outside his damn door until he showed up again. She'd break in to use his bathroom if she had to, and then back out again, because it was best that she not surprise him inside. He wasn't sleeping. He never slept through the day. Ever. And it was daylight out.

He could be a busy guy, though, depending on what -if anything, Zeus had going on and if even Kray had any plans of his own. ( So, she might be here for awhile. Oh, well. )

She really needed to do laundry. Okay, that was an understatement. Ninkasi really, really, really, really needed to do laundry. Thankfully, she had a pair of clean panties that did not look like they belonged in a trash can or on a homeless person -they were kind of adorable because they were from a whole pseudo-burlesque Batman thing she had and ended up not using (the whole Comic Book Panty Party got canceled due to weather weirdness and had yet to be rescheduled) and now hadn't worn them because after Halloween that seemed weird somehow. But, it was what she had left. At least, she thought so. She wasn't really up to closet spelunking to find out. And she did have a large clean tee that was big enough to cover her butt. She couldn't remember if it was something someone had given her or if it was something she had won in a strip poker night, or if it just sort of got left behind ages ago. But it was clean. So, she had that.

What Ninkasi did not have, however, was a bra that didn't smell like armpit and boob sweat -which was a lovely odor on its own when you drank enough beer to consider that your sweat took on that scent. She also, was fresh out of clean pants. Which... was problematic if she planned on going anywhere later. Or if anyone was coming over. Not that she really cared, but it was probably better that she wear pants.

( People tended to prefer that sort of thing in public. )

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. )

This was bold. Ninkasi didn't exactly think it was rude given her relationship with Kratos, but it was definitely bold. It wasn't even really the first time she sort of broke into his apartment either. But, she hadn't done it when he was still sleeping before. Which, honestly, was the only reason she wasn't up on the bed with him. Well, alright, no, that wasn't exactly true. ( There were a number of reasons she wasn't perched on Kratos' bed while he slept. )

It was time.

There was a certain something... a complete and utter peace to be found when an everlasting being went back into their most pure and primal state. For some gods, that was leaving Corpus and entering Concept. Sometimes it was an extended stay in Concept. For Styx, Concept was used more or less as a manner of transportation, not respite. When she wanted to be her pure essence, she melded with with her waters. She was, after all, her river. But even when she was physically separate from it, she was still her river at the core.

As Hate emerged from the water, taking form anew, and stepping up the slipway into her bedroom; Styx knew exactly what she was doing and where she was going. She didn't do things without purpose. ( At least not as a general rule. )

Kratos wasn't exactly a clean freak – there were stacks of magazines and mail piled up on one corner of his kitchen island that he had no intention of sorting through any time soon – but he did like to keep things orderly. It made it easier to find the things he needed. Early on in his service to the king, he'd learned that keeping everything in order meant he could get to his weapons fast enough to be of timely service. Scrabbling for a sword and shield meant opportunity given to the enemy. Though he didn't think that his apartment being clean would be life or death, ( it was still an ingrained habit that he continued to practice. )

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 chili wasn't half-bad. Kratos had been fairly skeptical when the bartender suggested it, it wasn't usually the sort of bar fare that was offered. Pizza, sometimes if they had one of those rotating pizza bakers. Sometimes burgers and fries if they had a grill in the back. But unless there was an actual restaurant attached to the bar, soups were not usually on the menu.

( But really, the chili wasn't half bad. )

Kratos bit into the hot, greasy funnel cake, knowing he was getting powdered sugar all over his upper lip, and not even caring. Normally he was pretty precise about his appearance, what with his job and all, but seriously? ( Funnel cake. )

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. )

With a best friend that was the goddess of beer, and such an affinity for beer himself, sometimes Kratos wondered if they'd run out of flavors to try. And then mortals would go and do something strange. Like create Mamma Mia Pizza Beer. Seriously. Pizza beer. ( Who thought of that? )