OOC: During Alexander the Great's campaign through Mesopotamia, post major destruction en-route to India.

Enlil knew he should stop following this so closely, it was just making him angrier and angrier with every single moment of the campaign that he watched. Every Persian that needlessly died, every woman and child needlessly enslaved, every temple and home looted or destroyed... it all just enraged him. This was an infuriating wave of disrespect and destruction of the likes he had never seen in his long life and considering what some of his children specialized in, and his own hand in the Flood aside, that was certainly saying something.

But this Greek was something spectacular and not a good way. Enlil might be the Lord of Storms but never, never, ( had he seen such a deceptive storm as there was in Alexander of Macedon.  )

He was so embarrassed. This was ridiculous. It was not going to work. Not at all. All his brothers' grand ideas of just throwing him into crowds of people and letting him talk his way out of them didn't work, he just ended up blushing and stuttering until he was able to shuffle into the shadows and away. So that way a complete and utter failure. His sisters' ideas of trying to get him to talk to them like they were strangers didn't really work either because he knew they were just his sisters. It was hard to pretend they were someone else when they were looking right at him, and smiling... and telling him he was adorable.

That really was what ruined it, wasn't it? That part where when he would start to stammer and get shy that they'd tell him he was cute and just so adorable. It just made it so much worse somehow. He was supposed to be sweet, he supposed. That was part of what he was supposed to do. But talking was supposed to factor in there too at some point. ( That was rather the purpose of being the god of Sweet Talk and Flattery. )

Lottie set the basket down on the banks of the river and pulled out the blanket she'd tucked over the top. There was little doubt that she would be here for some time, so she might as well get comfortable and it was her favorite blanket for sitting on. It wasn't the sort that would work well on a bed, it was a bit too thick so it didn't conform to a prone body. But that thickness made it fantastic for things like picnics or staring at clouds or talking a sister out of a sulk.

( Actually, that wasn't really fair. )

It was almost time.

Odin had spent a great deal of time in the area, reminding people of the old ways. More importantly, of the old gods. Perhaps Bragi would have been the better choice, but Odin had wanted to handle this on his own. The lower classes, those closest connected to the earth and simpler ways, had been easy. The nobility took a little more effort, but it paid off. The province had officially denounced the new Christian religion. New, to Odin's mind, at least, and in the overall scheme of things.

( But Sigurd Magnusson had heard. )

(Note: After this.)




Nyx could admit it: she was a little nervous. It was not that she thought her children would misbehave. In spite of their aspects, she'd taught all of them manners and demanded that they were used. Even when there wasn't company. After all, shouldn't your family be treated with at least as much respect as a guest?

And she certainly wasn't worried about her husband. He was charming. Occasionally too charming, but that only happened from time to time with pretty goddesses that didn't understand that he was not flirting with them. Nyx set them straight very quickly. But that would not happen tonight because she knew he viewed their guest in the same light that she did, so his charm would be entirely paternal.

( Nor was she overly concerned about the girl upon whose arrival she awaited. )

To say that the Lady Charlotte Gramont, of Basse-Navarre in Basque, was unhappy was an understatement. The truth was that she was wholly, completely, terribly, utterly crushed. Her heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces, and it hurt so much she could barely stand it. Her chest actually ached with how much she hurt. And it was even more devastating because ( she was a goddess. )

OOC: Takes place a little over a year since Harmonia married Cadmus. So way before the Trojan War

Carefully, Harmonia stepped out of the bath. Exceptionally careful so she didn't slip and fall. That could be tragic. The second her feet touched the tiled floor she was surrounded by attendants and a large piece of fabric meant to dry her. She continued walking toward a chair that once she sat upon, two attendants took to trying to dry her hair. It had been just over a year since the wedding that sealed her fate and she was growing accustomed to having people insist on doing things for her.

Looking down, she frowned. Things were changing so much and she felt to utterly alone. She was a Queen, she could not be friends with the mortal women around here. She didn't love her husband and Balance thankfully only saw Cadmus during formal meals, when guests were greeted and in bed. Which was assuming that both of them consistently slept in the same room. Or... really, even ate together. To those who lived in the Theban palace it was quite obvious that neither the King or Queen wanted the arrangement they were forced into.

Harmonia's hands went to her naked belly a moment, then waved the girls with the fabric that were drying her hair away. Wrapping the sheet around herself rather haphazardly, since short of her husband and her attendants, no one would really enter unannounced while she was in the room. Well, at least not men.

( She was so alone. )

There were so many rules. There were rules about what you could wear at certain times of the day. There were rules about what you may eat depending on what you were wearing at certain times of the day. There were rules about what order you could walk into a dining room to eat certain things depending on what you were wearing at certain times of the day. And so on and so on and so on. One rule led to another, led to another, led to a dozen. It was ridiculous.

( And it was all based on class. )

She really needed to start thinking things through before she did them, Lottie reflected as she stood calf-deep in the snow. It would probably prevent predicaments like this one if she actually had a plan going into the situation, rather than trying to come up with one on the fly. Though part of this had been unexpected: she hadn't really thought she'd find an orphaned fawn, after all. And how could she have known that the decision to cut through the forest to get to Bifrost would lead her right into a pack of wolves? This really wasn't her fault.

( It was just her problem. )

Philotes proudly examined her creation, turning it first one way, then the other. It was beautiful, she decided. Not as wonderful as what her mother made, but nothing could compare with that. It was prettier than some of the things she'd seen her sisters create, though, and that was important. Lottie was littler than a lot of them, and to be as good as them was something she really wanted. Because she was bigger than some of the others, and if she was good, then they'd want to be like her, just like she wanted to be like her sisters, and then everybody would try harder to be better and they'd all get better and better and wouldn't that be wonderful?

Lottie chuckled to herself, very pleased with her plan. Then she saw that one side was uneven, and she set to work correcting that. A few more decorations were added for good measure and she thought that made it even better than it had been before. And it had been really, really good before. But it wouldn't be any fun if she was the only one to see it. ( She needed to share it! )

Idun only needed one stroll through the marketplace to realize how very much she was going to like China. She had never explored this part of the world, but if the marketplaces were intriguing, she knew she was going to be a frequent shopper. ( And this particular marketplace was very, very intriguing. )

Change was never easy. It should be, Friendship reflected. Because it was one of those things that was a constant in life. Nothing ever stayed the same, so a body should get used to things changing, but whenever it happened, it always seemed there were those that had a hard time dealing with it. And not just with the unhappy changes, which were inevitable too, but even with the normal or joyful changes. Some people just didn't want things to be different.

( But they were now... )

Persephone had three months to come to the decision. She'd just birthed another child. The girl was dark-haired, a testament that it belonged below. She thought of taking it above with her, but what would that bring about? She'd introduce the girl to her mother eventually, when she was more rooted to the Underworld. For now, she'd keep her far deep within, protected by her subjects. She'd have freedom to do as she wished, unlike her parents. ( Living vicariously through your children was one way to get through life. )

It was ridiculously hot, but that was probably to be expected. Philotes was standing in the middle of a gigantic dry lake bed in the middle of a desert. There was no shade to be found except the small bit afforded by shadow cast by her supercar. With the panel up so she could tinker with the engine, the top half of her was covered, slightly protected from the merciless rays of the sun beating down on her, but she felt a bit like she had stuck her head in an oven. No air stirred to bring relief. Her torso was baking and her legs were frying. But if she could just get a little bit more out of her engine, Lottie was sure she could make it nearly fly.

The Bugatti Type 35 was already one of the fastest cars in the world. It had an overhead cam straight-8 engine that gave her 90 horsepower to play with. But that was just the beginning. From the leaf springs to the alloy wheels, the car was the ultimate machine for creating speed. The very best part was the hollow front axle that reduced weight. The Type 35 was created for racing, not touring, and it wasn't the most comfortable ride she'd ever had. But in a man-made contraption, it was the fastest.

( And she loved it. )

Sneaking was something that a person might think would come naturally to an Underworlder. Particularly an Underworlder born of Night and Darkness. After all, sneaking around in the middle of the night would be second nature to some of those children. But not to Philotes. Not for lack of trying; she would really like to return the favor some of her siblings visited upon her, and sneak up and scare the stuffing out of them when they least expected it. It was all in good fun. Mostly. But Lottie had a problem with sneaking: ( she was a klutz. )