|war_dog (war_dog) wrote in olympic_threads,|
@ 2011-07-21 04:43:00
|Entry tags:||ares, hermes|
Who: Ares OTA
What: Jury Duty
When: Thursday morning, 7/21
Warnings: A seriously annoyed Ares?
Ares looked up at the imposing edifice of the Superior Court of California, Los Angelos County, and grimaced. It was a large building with a lot of traffic, but the Areiopagos it was most definitely NOT. It lacked the sense of awe and respect that even Ares, once a god, had felt. That sense of destiny and of doom. Of judgement. This building instead was a bureaucratic nightmare from the moment he'd alighted from his car. He wasn't sure what was more amusing. The fact that he had jury duty and was a god (in human form), or the fact that the human form he wore was affiliated with organized crime and he'd STILL been tapped for this hell. It really said something about the level of desperation the system had to fill the seats for jury duty that he had been called. But, in order to maintain his cover and to not call any unwanted attention to himself, he and his men had decided that it would be best for him to actually attend this legal farce.
It was a good thing he managed to maintain enough of his godliness to be able to get by on very little sleep since it was bright and fucking early in the morning and he'd been out late the night before. But McDonald's was a wonderful place, and their hashbrowns sent him to a whole new level of happyland. Even if their bacon, egg, and cheese bagel was giving him heartburn. Ambrosia it was not, but it was infinitely better than the poptart he'd been contemplating for breakfast.
He hurried through the heavy doors and the crowd of people running late for their appointments in various parts of the building, hoping all the while that he'd be recused fairly quickly so he could go back to bed.
Even in his annoyed and caffeine deprived state, he noticed that human justice was a mockery of what it had been during the time of the Greeks. The unwashed masses showed up to court, something that in some cases would be a matter of their life or at least their livelihood, in tattered clothing, unshaven, and smelling like they hadn't showered in a month. Ares wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but even he had known when he was on trial to put his best face forward. Idiots. No wonder they were making a mess of everything they touched.
Finally he found the desk he was supposed to check in at, handing the bored looking woman his paper and taking a seat in the waiting area for the selection process to start.