perfect_wife (perfect_wife) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2009-10-17 22:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | alana kellings, gregory lyon, hera, herakles, june marris |
Who: Hera, Alana, and Herk
What: Reminders
Where: The Jube Hotel
When: Earlier this week.
Warnings: None
"Favorite color?"
Greg glanced over to the mortal woman, wondering if she'd answer non-sarcastically. He had about... half a chance. Maybe less. But, hey, had to give a guy a chance.
Alana glanced over at Greg and arched an eyebrow. He didn't seriously know this? Maybe he'd heard her rant about her least favorite color... To test or not to test? "Barbie or Pepto Bismol pink. Along with butterflies, kittens and purses carrying little tiny hairless dogs that can barely walk on their own."
"That is the most heinous lie I have ever heard you tell," he said with little amusement in his deep tone, though he smirked at her cheekiness as he leaned over the edge of her desk. His hat, part of his security outfit, tipped down his nose a a bit.
She snickered and reached up to tap his cap further down. "Naw, I've told worse. Normally to drunk men in bars about the various STDs I might have. Or lesbian lovers." She seemed to consider for a moment. "Though, there were some in high school..."
The god laughed again. "So do I get to know your favorite color?"
"Do I get to know yours?" Alana retorted, leaning back in her chair and glancing to her computer screen. Best to make sure there weren't any red flag alerts coming in.
Even as she checked and saw a yellow flag (as she thought of it), the elevator doors opened, releasing a well dressed woman to the offices floor. She arched an eyebrow at the scene before her, and began to walk forward toward them. Not because she truly needed to speak to either of them, but because her husband's office was past the secretary's desk. And there was Herakles. Flirting.
The mortal's eyes shifted from the computer and the 'boss's wife' warning that had come through, to notice the woman now approaching her desk. Shit. She straightened, sitting up sending a quick note to her boss that Hera was on campus. And outside his office door. AKA -- get your ass up here. Last she'd seen, he'd gone up to the restaurant kitchen to inspect some of the catering items. Message sent, she stood. "Mr. Jube isn't in his office just yet, but he should be there shortly, if you want to go inside and wait."
"I will." June nodded to the mortal, and turned her eyes to the god. "Greg, if you are not in the middle of something," her eyes scanned to Alana then back, "I would like to discuss something with you." She paused for a moment, then went to her husband's office, opening the door and stepping inside, expecting the god to follow.
Herakles blinked at the queen, and then glanced to Alana. The look on his face said it for him: well that didn't sound good.
Alana only shrugged at him. Like she had any idea what the woman wanted?
Ah well. Standing back up, straightening his uniform, he headed in after the goddess, closing the door after him.
Inside the office, Hera was making herself comfortable. Going to the side area, she started some hot water to prepare tea. A glance over the shoulder to be sure the door was closed and the god inside, and wasted no time. "Do you have a true interest in the mortal?"
"Why?" asked Herakles, clearly confused as to how it was her business.
She looked up at him, pinning him with her gaze. "[Because you are still a married man.]"
The strong man didn't wince, at least not visually. But he felt the sting, and replied, "[I'm aware...]"
"[So, do you have true interest in the woman, or are you merely proving that you are male.]" She continued to watch him, calm, waiting for his response.
The former hero frowned at her somewhat, and replied, "[I do have an interest in her. And yes, I am still married.]"
"[Then I suggest that you remember that. And consider how strong your interest is in that woman.]" Hera turned away, and began preparing her tea for the hot water.
"[I do remember. I also realize that it's possible that Hebe isn't even alive, as horrible as that is. Not all of us can live holding their breath for hope. Some of us just try to live on. And no disrespect, stepmother, but I don't remember asking you,]" he said as calm as could be, scowling down at the shorter immortal.
"[If you wish to know if your wife is even alive, I suggest you speaking and respectfully requesting an answer from one in a position to know,]" she answered, unruffled by the scowl or the poor attitude with which he was taking her words. He had only himself to blame for them. "And if we care to use such terms as step-mother, then you may also wish to recall that I am your mother-in-law, as well as your aunt."
"We're a bit messed up like tha--" He paused, her first sentence sounding odd. "What do you mean if I want to know if she's even alive? Is she... here?"
Hera resisted the urge to sigh and merely peered at the younger immortal. "[Who would you seek to speak with if you wished to know if one was deceased, or speak with one who was deceased?]"
Oh. He sighed and shook his head. "[I thought you meant she was actually here in town. Heard that wrong.]"
An eyebrow arched. "[And what if I did?]"
"[Then I would handle it from there. With her.]" Read: not with you.
"[And the mortal?]" Ah, but if it were her who knew the daughter was in town, he would need to play by her rules. Whatever she chose them to be.
"[Has little to nothing to do with you, especially considering that she's not sleeping with Dad. Shocking, I know, but true,]" he said calmly. "[Did you need anything?]"
"[Clearly you are not listening. But I do not see why this would be of any surprise.]" She lifted a hand and gestured for him to leave. If he would not take her warning and advice, than she would not be held responsible for when things crashed down around him. He was like his father in such regards.
The god-hero only deepened his frown, face full of mistrust. What reason did he have to believe anything she said? In his eyes, she still had blood on her hands, and some of it was his. "[If you're saying Hebe is here, then just come out and say it. If you're saying you don't approve of what I'm doing with my life, then say it. I don't like fancy talk, even if you do.]"
She turned to look at him straight on. "[Very well. I am saying that if you wish to know if you wife is alive or dead, you should ask those with the means to find out. Such as your uncle, the Lord of the Underworld. Or myself, who can tell marriage lines. I am also saying that should Hebe be in the area and see you mindlessly flirting with a mortal, she would be well within her rights to be bothered by such a sight, and you should be prepared for that occurance. Would you prefer a dalliance, or your wife? It would be vastly unwise to lead a woman to the thought of a possible relationship, only to deny it from her at the reappearance of your wife. Though, if you would prefer a mortal over a princess, I suppose that you would have less to be concerned with.]" While none of her words were a direct threat, there was the heat and steel of the former queen. A warning, perhaps, that he would be wise to consider carefully his actions.
Her words did sting, and he couldn't lie about that. "[Your words imply that she's of less worth because she's mortal,]" he said, "[and you're wrong. But you're right, I hadn't thought to speak with Hades. And, quite frankly, I don't like talking to you. You're my father's wife and for some reason he loves you, so I won't just ignore you. But I haven't forgotten, and I'm sure you haven't either. As for Hebe...]"
He paused, glancing to the ground for thought, before adding, "[If... she is gone, then that's settled. I don't want her to be. But...]" The younger immortal sighed and shrugged. "[Complicated. But I can handle it, and so can Hebe. And that's what matters.]"
"[You are placing a mortal as equal to your wife?]" she asked, arching an eyebrow and carefully folding her hands before her.
"[I'm saying that just because she's your daughter doesn't make her any better than Alana. Nothing more, nothing less.]"
"[No, you are not.]" He was saying far, far more. And this was the last chance she would give him to correct that.
Herakles arched an eyebrow. "[I was unaware your new domain was being psychic.]"
"[I do not need to be psychic to hear the words that you are speaking.]" She studied him for a moment, then turned away. "I have spoken what I have meant to say, and heard your replies. Unless you have something more to discuss, you are free to leave. She will most likely be highly interested to hear your tale of survival at my mercy." Hera turned to her tea, pouring the water, then turning her back to him as she walked to one of the seats to await her husband.
He only sighed, sounding more disappointed than angry, and turned to go. "Have a nice day. Ma'am."
She gave a small wave over her shoulder as he disappeared outside.
Alana, on the other hand, was at her desk, and leaned back as she saw him reappear. "What? No Giant thrashing?"
"...Of a sort," he said, looking away from her as if guiltily.
Her eyebrows went up. "Wow. Must of been some thrashin'. Go take your break or somethin'."
"Yeah, yeah, sure..." He probably needed one anyway. Wait, no he didn't, he could go days without 'breaks'. He had in the past! Was he getting soft? Or... something. The god shook his head and headed up to the elevator. For the bar.
As long as he didn't drink while on duty, and while in uniform. Alana did not want to have to go through that. Shaking her head as he left, she turned back to her work, paging her boss once more to make sure he was on his way.
Summary: Alana and Greg are chatting when June shows up. She calls him into her husband's office while she's waiting for him to arrive and they... chat.