Simon will just LIVE in this booth forever. (magienoir) wrote in yegods, @ 2012-08-24 09:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, c: ari, c: daisuke, c: jackson, c: mickey, c: rick, c: simon |
Gravity I
WHO Simon, Ari, Mickey, Rick, Jackson, Daisuke, and a slew of NPCs!
WHERE Central Park
WHEN August 24th, 2012
RATING PG-13
SUMMARY Gravity don’t mean that much to me.
STATUS Complete
Things are dire. Maybe desperate. Could be futile. What with the sun still blotted out by the thick fog, and Titans wrecking the city, things are really, really bad. Yet, it is because of the Titans that Simon came to think that it could be highly likely that their saviors might also be in town. It was a hunch, but an educated one, at least, and it turns out he was right. It might have taken kidnapping a teenage girl to prove, but prove it he did.
Lydia is... well, wherever she is. Simon doesn’t know or care. There’s really nothing he can think about at this moment except what lies just beyond the trees ahead of them. So whether a practical stranger makes good use of her freedom and goes to hide, or if she attempts to contact the police in the midst of the city being attacked... It’s none of his business, because if he and his comrades can get out of this without being tortured for the rest of ever, they’ll be lucky.
There’s a kind of wild look about Simon as he stands there in the shadows of those trees, mentally preparing himself for what comes next. He did prepare himself for the possibility of an untimely end. He took a long shower, he groomed and anointed himself, he put on one of his favorite button-down shirts and nice dark grey trousers. Yet, his hair is uncommonly tousled, his face whiter and sharper than usual, an excitement in his eyes that could be construed as mental imbalance.
He puts out the cigarette on the sole of his shoe - maybe his final cigarette (he can’t help but add) - and checks the bandages wrapped around both hands. He can feel them. Probably, they can feel them, too. Their magic - no, their mere existence - is so powerful, and there are so many of them gathered here right now... unlike the little staticy tingle one gets from demi-gods, this is like a pulsation sweeping through the air, vibrating in his bones. Gods are here.
And if this motley crew can succeed, they won’t be leaving this place again.
Simon gives a short little nod and begins to proceed into the clearing.
They have arrived at this moment, finally. This ragtag crew of the angry, the rebellious, the justice-seekers, and those unwilling to settle. They have reached the crossroads, the turning point. It is here that their fate will be forever sealed.
They are not, perhaps, who Ari would have chosen as his companions into battle, were the choice his to make. However, those he would trust by his side through anything are the exact people he wants nowhere near this. It's bad enough that they are marching in with hardly any plan and little trust between them. All of them are islands. They are not a team. They are nothing but mercenaries headed for the same battle.
Ari stands tall and straight, dressed in clothes that are comfortable for movement. His spear has already manifested, the larger head lightly balanced on the ground, the smaller tip coming to a point just above Ari's height. From afar he looks relaxed, but tension runs through every muscle; he is more like a cat, waiting to spring. Perhaps physical prowess is not the ideal weapon against gods, but they have little else at their disposal right now. Against deities for whom war is not their realm, a war demigod like himself may actually be able to cause some effect.
He can feel them, their auras like a pulsing wave through the air. He does not know how many there are, or how much of an advantage surprise will give them. But the time is now, ready or not. When Simon nods Ari follows, glancing behind to mark the movements of the others.
Rick is surprised to see Mickey there - the woman who had apparently stabbed Luz in cold blood. Or perhaps at the behest of her mother, if her bizarre post meant anything. Since the others recognized her, he hesitated only a moment before deciding that it made sense for her to be here. She had definite reason to want to overthrow the interference of the gods in this realm.
As Simon had requested, he had studied the 5-4-5 spell, and felt comfortable enough with it to assist their leader if necessary. In truth, he was still wary about releasing Chaos into this realm, but Simon seemed convinced that it was what had to be done. He had made preparations, and Ari, who he trusted to be more level-headed, apparently agreed.
Still, he had also come prepared to fight, if that was where he was needed. Looking over those assembled, that seemed more likely. He had donned his vest and several guns, plus ammo. While he was unsure if bullets would affect the gods, he'd found them fairly effective against monsters. And while he seriously doubted any of the gods would be firing a gun at him, it was possible that they would use something like a bullet to attack, and wouldn't he feel silly if he were injured because he chose not to wear the vest?
As everyone seemed to be heading to the same spot, Rick positioned himself somewhat kitty-corner to Ari, behind and on the relative opposite side of the group, in an effort to cover more ground - both for protecting their numbers and for sweeping the area for an attack. The pulsing of the magic here was strong enough to make it seem as if the earth and air had a heartbeat.
There is no doubt in Simon’s mind that it’s now or never. What else would he be doing? Fighting Titans? No doubt, Fenrir would take one look at him and swallow him whole. Simon is not really the Achilles type. He’s more a strategist. Well, normally. Except now he has the megabomb in his hands, and he’s fairly sure that if that doesn’t count for leverage, nothing will. Provided the gods even believe he is capable of this feat. Honestly, he’s not entirely sure of it. He’s gotten a lot better at probability magic, but he there’s still room for error. He might pull this out, and then it gets a little windier or something.
He really hopes that doesn’t happen.
He glances at the devil in the party. Maybe if he fails, Jack will succeed. It doesn’t matter who succeeds as long as it works, and it should work. If everything in the world - even without the madness presently at hand - is always on the verge of chaos, then by his reckoning, with everything this chaotic and his own family tree so closely stemming from it... there is certainly Chaos to be found in him. It should work. It just has to be tapped into. He tries to tell himself this as they walk along, though his heart is drumming against his rib cage, and his hands are shaking. He wishes he had another cigarette. Or a drink. Both. Just both at the same time.
He can’t really think about what will happen if they fail, no more than he can fully consider what is probably going to happen if they succeed. For that matter, he can’t think of what may very well be awaiting him. He just has to stay in the present and get this done, because if there is one thing that all of them are agreed on it’s that there are people out there who make this worth it.
For Daisuke’s sake, he can endure anything. Even if it’s torture. Even if it’s complete annihilation. Even if it’s an eternity of exile. For Daisuke, he can do it.
They break through the trees, and there they are... just sort of assembled as though they’re taking tea on a fine Sunday afternoon. As though the sun is not hidden behind clouds and fog. As though the very earth doesn’t tremble now and then just a little with the step of a Titan. They’re chatting calmly. Simon has to admit, they’re a lot stronger than he had reckoned they would be, but could this force take down the rest of the gods? It doesn’t seem as impossible anymore, but it still seems improbable to him. No, all they’re doing now is wrecking the city and ensuring that when their hubris crushes them, the war will be perpetuated with the hunting down of their children.
They are selfish, craven beings.
Simon stops there at the edge of the trees, still some meters off from the gods. Not enough of a distance that any of them can harbor hope of escape, but there is still a sense of safety in it. He forces his face into a look of sheer haughtiness, standing up a little taller, because their entrance hasn't gone unnoticed.
A handsome black man in a fine suit turns to look at them before chuckling and nudging an equally good-looking Egyptian looking man, who turns to consider the group with an annoyed look. For a moment, Simon wishes that he and Mickey were not the only ones of their children here, because Ari and Rick and Jack are surely sticking out like sore thumbs and telling these clever gods something that maybe Simon would rather they not immediately guess. Well, perhaps arrogance will keep them from the immediate danger of violent paranoia. He hopes. All he has is hope, so he hopes.
He clears his throat. “Maman,” he calls to the dark-haired woman standing a few feet away from the Baron.
Her face is as white as his, her features as strong, though her eyes are as dark as his are pale. He can’t imagine anyone being more lovely or more horrible than Hecate. He clenches his hands, feeling the bandages pinch his palms.
Swallowing back his fear, he states, “We want you to stop this. Hear us out, because if you don’t, we won’t be responsible.”
There is the faintest tremble in his voice that he desperately wishes wasn’t there as he turns to Ari. It’s there, and it’s heard, and he hates it, because a few of the gods chuckle, smirking at the small group of godlings. He hates their pride. He hates their conceit. He hates their callousness and their recklessness. And he hates that his little group may not be able to stop them.
He tucks that away and turns to give Ari an expectant look. Who else could provide a more logical explanation of why this has to stop here and now than the son of Athena? Still looking at Ari, he continues to address his mother. “Please. Listen to reason.”
She stands behind, as usual. Mickey always stands behind; she is not a leader and never will be. It was never her place to be at the forefront of the battle, despite her role in deciding what they would do. She walked the way in silence, her own demons to battle with on what she was about to do. She had called her grandparents, packed her things into neat piles and dressed for the occasion in black. It seemed only fitting.
The dancer has a sickening feeling that she might just be all talk underneath it all, and it resonates in her mind that she may not be able to do anything. She knows they will sense her fear and she is thankful that she has worn a hoodie again, the hood and her bangs making her expression indistinguishable. A tactic her mother has used, although she has only realised the similarities recently.
The aura is stifling. She can feel the ice cold of her mother, the others all completely different. It's power, she knows that, pure, raw and dangerous power, and it makes the young woman want to turn, run and pretend that she had done nothing. But she feels her mother's eyes on her, cold and piercing and speculative and while she can't bring herself to look, she knows she can't turn back. The others are irrelevant to this, she never had reason to hurt them as far as she knew. But if they were all like her, like terrifying,deceptive Izanami, then Mickey had no choice but to continue.
For a second, as they chuckle, Mickey feels strange. There is nothing but pure, blinding hot rage yet she can't quite seem to articulate any words to assist Simon. Nothing will come out. Not until her mother speaks, and then she can say all she wants to say. She stares at them through a veil of hair, shuddering as she struggles not to shrink into herself. She'll wait for the moment. Until then, she feels she can't say anything at all.
Rick watches almost curiously as Simon calls out to the group of gathered gods in the clearing. In spite of his uneasiness about Jack and Mickey, and even whatever it is that Simon has planned, he feels some sense of relief on seeing the assembled gods - his father is not among them. He had been uncertain if the plan was to wage war on all the gods, and certainly, an attack on any one of them was an attack on them all. And while the interference of the gods must end, it was never a pleasing thought to know one may be responsible for taking the life of a beloved parent. While Rick was troubled about facing his own father and the consequences of patricide, he was more concerned about the parents of others - what about Ava's Inari? Or Daisuke's Amaterasu? It wasn't right to make the decision for them.
Rick notes the trembling voice, though it doesn't bother him as much as the words indicating they cannot be held responsible. He frowns. How very convenient. If their plan results in eternal torture or the destruction of the entire Universe, it's not their fault. Rick doesn't like the suggestion, though it's hardly the time to bring it up. The point is, they have decided. They are taking responsibility. He wishes Simon wouldn't indicate otherwise.
Though, he really does hope they do listen to reason. Even if he thinks it is a nonexistent chance that they will.
They assemble, two very different collections of beings: one smug and unperturbed by their actions, the other vibrating with fear and hope at the potential of their own. It is pretty clear these gods don't think much of the group who has appeared in their midst. Their arrogance, hopefully, will work in the rebels' favor. Ari's grip on his weapon tightens, and he wonders if they recognize the Spear of Destiny, or if they can see Jack the demon for what he is. If the Spear indeed has the powers it is said to have, its presence should draw more than amusement and annoyance from them. If nothing else, it denotes a deadly purpose that requires their attention.
Ari's eyes flit over the gathering. He recognizes Hecate from Halloween, when he watched from the window as gods bargained for human souls. He can make some inferences about the others; the man with the Egyptian countenance is likely Set, and the dark, cold Japanese woman is no doubt Izanami. He can tell that just by glancing at Mickey. A smaller woman with wild hair has the well-known air of the Greek pantheon; considering the circumstances she is probably Eris, goddess of strife. Others Ari cannot guess on appearances alone, although one god lingering at the edge of the crowd gives off an aura that is chillingly familiar. Memories of sulfur and ash and one bright star rise in his mind, and Ari's eyes narrow.
He stands by quietly as Simon speaks, his expression calm but his body ready for action at the barest hint of need. His gaze swings over their audience, noting reactions. Simon then turns to him, asking the gods to listen to reason. Well, that must be his cue.
Ari has never been so afraid in his life. The only time that has come close was that first encounter with a monster, back when he was still new to the world. Back when panic ruled his responses because he know no better. Now he is trained. Now, even though he is faced with death or worse, and his heart is pounding like it would gladly flee and leave his body behind, Ari does not let that show to the hostile gods he addresses.
"You of all the gods should know, to be beaten down again and again only feeds the fire. There is a point when power and the status quo are not enough to protect you from the rage of those you have used. Do you feel marginalized? Do you seek revenge? No doubt, but when that is accomplished, what will you have? A broken world with no one to worship you. You gain no power or position from this. You will merely destroy yourselves as surely as your enemy.
"Is this what you want? Perhaps. Creation and destruction are in your natures, and you are part of the cycle. But you are not the only ones who have a say in what happens to this world. You made an error in overlooking humans. You merely fashioned yourselves after your own keepers, and as rebellion bred in you due to their mistreatment, so have you created anger and purpose in those you viewed as tools. Now you fight a war on two fronts: against those from whom you wish to enact justice, and those who would do the same to you."
Ari pounds his spear on the ground. "Do you think you will win, with all this against you? Do you think by reviving old powers that they cannot be defeated again? Reconsider your position. If you do not yet realize that you are being surrounded as we speak, there is no hope for you." His the echo of his voice in the clearing fades, and Ari waits, not removing his gaze from the enemies before him.
Jack had no choice but to take his true form. Once upon a time, it definitely resembled one that was more angelic. He had a golden pair of eagle's wings and radiated light. However, the Nameless had cursed him to fall which corrupted his form. His wings were now black like a raven's, his skin resembling that that has been exposed to fire, a pair of horns like a ram's. Jack knew he was taking a big risk when he put his cards in Simon but the reason he fell wasn't because he followed Lucifer. He fell because he loved humans. He wanted to see the human race grow past the perpetual Adam and Eve. The Nameless's obsession with law, while it kept chaos at bay, stagnated the development of the human race.
Right now, he saw himself as an adviser. In a Lord of the Rings comparison, he was more of a Gandalf than a Frodo or in Star Wars, an Obi-Wan than a Luke. This is why he kept to the back and watched as humans in Simon's ragtag group reached into themselves and pulled out the potential and the bravery he knew was there. There was a reason why some of his demon friends grew jealous of humans and possessed them because they wanted this freedom, even though they could never have it, even masquerading as humans.
He didn't even have anything quirky he deemed to say. Not even in the peanut gallery. He just smiled.
Now - as he stands in front of her - Simon knows that he doesn’t want to kill his own mother. There is very little he would rather do less, because he loves her. So he wants so desperately for her to listen to what Ari is saying to her. For her to recognize that what they’re trying to say has merit - to recognize that she loves him just as much and doesn’t want to hurt him. He fiddles nervously with the bandages on his hands, staring at her pleadingly as Ari speaks. If she could show just the barest hint of remorse... Just something to let him know that she feels anything for him, and that she feels anything other than smugness at her place above humankind. He nods as Ari says that subjugation and violence can only create resentment - that this is what they have done to this group. No, to all the humans they have used in their schemes.
His breath comes in little shaky gasps, and he swallows roughly, forgetting for a moment to look at Hecate to stare at Ari with awe and wonder at the strength and resolution and righteousness his words impart. He almost laughs himself, because really, Ari was built to be a leader of men. His words are a kind of magic unto themselves, and they lend a little courage to Simon, so that he is able to control his breathing and make his hands shake a little less intensely.
There is a moment of silence when Ari finishes. Despite the fact that they are standing on soft grass and hard-packed dirt, the thud of the spear seems to resonate in the air.
Hecate turns to the Baron questioningly. He shrugs a little, rubbing his chin, though doesn’t look too bothered one way or the other. Mostly, he continues to look a little amused. She turns back to Simon, watching him curiously, but now with the hint of a frown.
Set stares coldly at the young, blonde man, eyeing the spear with a lot more wariness than before. His hands go into his pockets, perhaps indicating that he will drawn his own weapon - the scrolls tucked inside - if needs be.
The wild-haired goddess is the first to laugh, her eyes gleaming with violent, unstable energy, but the others don’t chorus Eris’s mad laughter. It alone echoes through the clearing.
Loki shifts around at the edge of the assembled - his eyes bright with cleverness, but his air a cagey kind of uncertain. Fight or flight? Perhaps that’s what he’s toying with as he considers the opposition and his allies.
Two Native American looking gods stand nearby each other. Malsumis stares with a cold kind of anger at Ari and his insolence, but Coyote watches him with an almost fond expression, though like Loki, he begins to sort of remove himself - very subtly - from the group. Perhaps standing back to measure how the others do.
Just ahead of them is a very beautiful Polynesian looking woman, who seems somewhat at odds with the others. Pele holds her head high, and though she frowns, her face is otherwise very flat and impassive.
It’s the Shinto outcasts who are first to speak. Izanami moves first, shuffling her way to the forefront of the group, and even causing some of her allies to shrink back with uneasy looks. Her hair mostly covers her face. Being out in daylight - even when it’s only this much daylight - is strange to her and uncomfortable. Still, she pins her gaze straight on Mickey and holds up a hand. “Join me, daughter. It is time.” A horrible smile twists her lips. “This is the moment we have waited for, isn’t it? This is why you attacked the sun god’s child, isn’t it? Join with me now, or I will kill all these... others in front of you while you watch. Come to me now, Jocelyn.”
Amatsu-Mikaboshi chuckles at Izanami’s threat, crossing his arms. “Yes, what do you think you’re going to do exactly, Aristotle? Stab us one by one with the Spear of Destiny? Maybe you could kill one of us,” he says, glancing a little derisively at the others. “But then the rest of us will overcome you, and I will personally put you in the sky while I make the rest of your loved ones suffer for all eternity. Be a good boy and put it down, and I’ll keep you alone as my prisoner,” he continues with a sly little purr to his voice. “We could tease the darkness out of your heart. You might like it.”
“Yes,” Coyote breaks in, looking annoyed at the star god’s attitude. “What can you do? It’s better for you to just stop now. You think we’re villains, but we know leniency, too. Why not side with us? Our goals aren’t as dark and terrible as you may be thinking.” He smiles reassuringly at the group. “We could make things better for everyone.”
Set eyes Coyote with a frown, clearly disliking the idea of not just punishing these flies immediately. Yet he does not immediately pull out a scroll. He stares at them with an expression that says, Stand down or be annihilated right here and now. And why not? To him, they are ants. He could destroy them as easily as he breathes. Loki creeps up behind him, now searching the group for something that he does not seem to immediately find. He slips to the periphery of his allies again.
Eris, however, seems to like Amatsu-Mikaboshi’s logic, turning her attention on Zeus’s son. “Son of the Pervert~” she says in a sing-song voice. “I am going to enjoy you.” She smiles, the twist of her lips feral and unbalanced. “I will make you live 500 years, and everyone you cross will be cursed with abject misery. I will make you dream about them every night until you’re begging me to die~,” she says, fingering her cleavage as she giggles with a voice that’s not so much sweet as unnerving, batting her eyes at him.
Hecate continues to stare at Simon, though. Her eyes narrow just a fraction, the wheels turning fast behind them. It is an expression that Simon has often looked upon others with. It’s an expression that he’s been looked at by her so many times since she revealed that she was not a dream that he would know she’s doing it even if he wasn’t looking at her. “Simon, you’ve raised quite an...” She pauses, brow quirking and mouth twitching up in one corner. “...army, haven’t you?” She steps forward, the Baron’s hand slipping from her arm, as she moves closer to the group, but not directly next to Izanami (because ew). “You are very clever, Agoraki mou.” She smiles, making her face seem momentarily warm and affectionate. “Are you upset because I did not call you yet? I was going to, you know. You are always a very important part of my plans,” she says, brows rising imploringly. “You are my son.”
But she falters just a little, the mask of maternal warmth slipping, as her dark eyes dart to Jack. “Or would you rather keep such... undesirable bedmates? Simon, don’t align yourself with His fallen. This one has already gone against his parent and failed, and now look at him. Don’t make this your fate,” she says, not looking at her son, but glaring at the demon. “Now he stares up at Heaven in longing and reaches, but never comes closer than the top of his own head.” She turns back to Simon, briefly looking over the others - particularly Ari, for whom she spares a brief sneer. “They have pretty words, but they are your inferiors. Go home, and if you are good, I will give you Amaterasu’s son when we are through. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?”
The small scrap of hope in Rick's mind blew away like a ribbon in the wind when Izanami spoke, and he shook his head. Ari's words were true - this war they were waging - the way they were waging it - would destroy everything. The heroes these gods had called up were the defeated old ones, and Rick didn't foresee, powerful as they were, that their aid would guarantee the success of the rebel gods. And their tactics showed desperation (not that the group of demigods gathered here didn't also show some desperation) - they had called up a weapon that could destroy them as easily as it destroyed their enemies. Like dropping the bomb on Hiroshima. Maybe it ended the war, guaranteed the victory, but some costs were too expensive to pay.
Still, how was it different for them, the demigods, who were also willing to do whatever it took to stop the maverick gods? Maybe the difference was that they were not seeking to destroy an enemy at the expense of the entire Universe - they were attempting to prevent that. And it might make no difference in the end - the Universe may be no better off. At least they've tried.
Rick's expression grew darker, his heart hardening more as each of the gods took their turn threatening each of the demigods. When Eris spoke to him, he finally looked up, his face paling slightly for a moment before his expression hardened again. And when Hecate finished speaking, he found that he could no longer contain his disdain for all that had been said. "And what of Zeus and his father, Goddess? Not all who fight a greater foe fail - don't use only the example that suits your argument to try and sway us. And I think that you should know enough of human nature to know that rulers who treat their subjects cruelly, who try to force their will, face opposition. We are not meant to be your playthings. We've grappled with our fates already, and your threats won't deter us."
Rick had to stop there, because the next words that came to him were taunting - challenging these gods to make good on their threats immediately if the demigods were really so inconsequential and outmatched. But, he did recognize the foolishness of such a challenge.
Stealth is not Jackson's forte. The fact that he's been able to follow the little group of rebels this far without being noticed is probably more due to their preoccupation with their mission than any skill he might have in tailing. At least he knows to keep a proper distance; he's already nervous enough to start warping the space around him. He's pretty sure Simon, at least, knows of this particular power, so if the group suddenly couldn't keep their balance, it'd be a dead giveaway. So Jackson hung as far back as he could without losing sight of at least one of the other demigods and didn't even stop to delight in the chaos he created in his wake as random passerby staggered and fell around him.
Honestly, Jackson is pretty much in the dark about what's going on. He knows that the Titans are running around turning the city into a huge shitshow. His meeting with Loki hadn't really told him much besides the fact his dad seemed to think Simon was going to get in his way somehow. So when the Frenchman mobilized, Jackson followed. He doesn't really care about the rest of this little group. Some guy that he thinks is the preacher and Auguste's friend, that old cop, and Grudge girl. Jack is there too, which actually makes Jackson more anxious. He's not quite sure what the demon might do, but he's got his true name as his ace-in-the-hole, if it's needed.
He really doesn't want to have to use it though. Not against Simon. Simon, though he would never say it, has been the best friend he has ever had. He has been the one and only person who hasn't abandoned him. But Jackson doesn't want to be the kid, the little brother forever. He wants to grow up and lead the pack. Villains regularly betray people, right? That's pretty much what it's going to come down to tonight: a choice between betraying Loki or betraying Simon.
As the group of demigods reach the meeting of gods, Jackson sneaks into a group of bushes offering a decent vantage point. The sight of all those gods is intimidating, no doubt about that. He is shaking as he lays down his bag and pulls out his equipment: fedora and lantern. They aren't much to use against either side, so he'll have to be very clever about when and how he utilizes them. For now, however, he watches as the space around him bends and folds in time with his pounding pulse.
Ari's face is stony and impassive as the gods throw out their threats, brush-offs, and appeals. He notes Set's eyes on the spear. It is known then. Good. Perhaps at least some of them will begin to understand that some harm can be dealt them if they continue their course. Amatsu-Mikaboshi's taunt earns no outward reaction, but inside they only steel his resolve. A threat to the ones he love is the best motivation that he could get, and while he knows better than to pursue a personal vendetta in a scenario like this, he does hope to be the one to end the Shinto outcast.
As he continually scans the scene, he spares a glance for each of his comrades. Rick's words are strong, and he gives the older man a slight nod. It is encouraging to hear those words and know that, faced with the reality of their mission, fear has not dislodged his resolve. For Rick this is especially important, for he is, or was, a follower of the older ways; one of the souls that willingly powered the gods with worship. To Ari, Rick's determination to fight against those in whom he once placed faith is brave indeed. That sort of inspiration is needed on the battlefield.
Simon and Mickey's positions are even more difficult; they battle against blood and family. He watches the two and their mothers carefully. He doesn't think they will be swayed, but Hecate and Izanami are cruel and clever. The slightest weakness in their children, and either goddess would gladly swoop in and take the advantage. He draws a steady breath and shifts spear into a ready position.
"Whatever your intentions," he says, eyes landing briefly on Coyote, "to accept them would be to reaffirm ourselves as beholden to you. And that is something that no longer reflects the state of this world. We will not retreat backwards, but fight ever forward to make that path clear for those after us."
Coyote stares at Ari with his eyebrows raised. No doubt, the boy - like Zeus’s son - has a way with words. He disagrees, but then again, maybe he shouldn’t. Perhaps this is his lesson to learn... For a moment, he appears to be torn between pity and admiration. Then he shrugs, smiling a little and, like Loki, quietly slips to the outskirts of the gathering, watching the rest of his brethren curiously. Loki continues to search the group and their surrounds for something, which - at last - he finds. He stops pacing about, smiling just a little, though he remains to the outside, too - waiting.
Amatsu-Mikaboshi outright sneers at Rick and then at Ari. “So, you choose damnation,” he says, moving closer. “I would have thought you were smarter than that. Well, there’s room enough in the sky for all of you.”
“I want the Zeus child!” Eris chips in in an angry, high-pitched tone, stomping after him and grabbing him by the back of his robes, as though he might suddenly rush the godlings.
He pulls free of her, looking annoyed, or rather, looking like he might hit her instead. “Fine, you can have that one for your boorish punishments, but stay away from the rest.”
“And you stay away from Jocelyn,” Izanami suddenly snarls, her head jerking to the side to level a most hideous glare at Amatsu-Mikaboshi. “Jocelyn, I said come here now,” she adds in the same angry tone. The grass around her bare white feet begins to turn yellow and curl. “Or I will kill the little boy first!”
“Now, let’s not be hasty,” Loki suddenly says, making himself known.
“All of you, be quiet!” Set thunders, and for a moment, it works. He resumes looking imperious and aggravated, though his attention is on the other gods and not the godlings.
Under this new awning of quiet, Hecate moves to the front of the group. She pauses to stare as belittingly as she can at the real rabble rousers here for a moment - though doesn’t spare a word for Rick or Ari - before turning back to Simon and offering a what ought to be a conciliatory smile. “Amaterasu’s son. You’ve missed him, haven’t you?” she says in that same condescending, yet gentle tone.
For a moment, Simon feels conflicted enough that it slips through into his face. Hecate knows her way through his defenses so well. She knows what makes him tick. Except she doesn’t - not entirely. She doesn’t realize that he knows that the annoyance in her face is more honest than the love. He knows that she will hurt him - perhaps kill him and take his soul for her stores - without much provocation. And he knows something else about himself that she does not, because it is the something that has blossomed in the last year. In the dark and in bitter soils, it went to seed, but then the sunlight gently caressed its budding head, coaxing it up ever upwards into the light. It was warmed and soothed and made strong with love.
It is the part of him that balks when she begins offering him Daisuke on a silver platter. The conflict recedes, replaced by sadness and the hint of fear once more. He does want Daisuke. In his mind, he is doing this so that Daisuke can live the rest of his life unmolested. Maybe he won’t be around to protect him, but surely Mickey or Ari or Rick will do it in his stead. Surely, they don’t hate him that much, so they will protect Daisuke on his behalf. And Daisuke will grow past his anger. He will find someone who is honest and simple. That person won’t love him as much as Simon does, but maybe Simon’s love is a dangerous, harmful thing in the end. So he will have a healthy love instead.
There will be a house and children. There will be kittens. There will be sunlight and wine and vacations on the Cape and huge Thanksgiving dinners and the sweat on his skin every morning when he does his katas and the warmth of his wife’s head on his chest when he falls asleep every night. Daisuke can be happy, left alone to live a normal, simple life. There is nothing in the world that he wants more than that: not his sanity, not his music, not magic, not power, not even his own happiness and comfort. And it says everything about Hecate that she thinks that this is how the world should work: that she will offer him something that has little value to her, should have great value to him, and ultimately will enslave someone to his will.
It’s just like Nico and Europe. And Simon didn’t really want that, either.
He chuckles through his nose, the sound coming out more like sighs than amusement, and then he turns to his comrades. “Stay back. From here on, you must do what Ari asks of you.” He turns to Jack and smiles briefly. “And the rest will be left to you. C’est parti.”
Swallowing roughly, he turns, briskly crossing the meadow between this tiny mortal battalion and the gods. His heart is jolting in his chest, his breath is coming in panicky bursts, and Hecate swims in his vision, so he looks down at his hands. As he walks, he unwraps the bandages around them, revealing tape, which he rips away with a pained wince. Fresh blood beads in the א carved into his left palm and the ט carved into the right. He stops a few feet away from his mother and lifts his hands above him, thinking of black and grey and static white and whirling winds and emptiness.
“Aleph... Tet.”
Blood wells in his palms and then slips down the sides of his hands and wrists. For a moment, nothing happens. The moment is long enough that it seems like nothing is going to happen. Some might call it embarrassing, others might say it’s horrifying. But Simon just stands there, trying to coax the chaos out of his own body.
“Simon, stop wasting our time,” Hecate says, the motherly love gone from her features as she steps towards him.
Then something like smoke shoots from the goddess’s body. It’s joined by similar darts of shadow from the other gods’ chests. Not just them, though. It even seems to originate from the godlings - perhaps no more than a breath of shade from those less chaotic in nature. It comes from the trees and the grass and the very air. It seems to appear out of nothing. This dense, whirling-swirling fog begins to twist and form an ever growing ball of color without color around Simon. He opens his eyes and gives Hecate a bittersweet little smile before reaching out to grab her and draw her to him.
“No!” shouts the Baron, taking a step after her, but he is stopped in his tracks as a ring of light bursts outwards from the sphere, and the miasma of Chaos erupts into an enormous, circling orb of what can best be described as cloud. Hecate and Simon disappear behind its black borders. It grows larger and larger by the moment. Leaves pull free of their branches, and grass is ripped up by the roots - sucked into the vortex.
Something amorphous springs free of the swirling cloud. Like a long black arm, it blindly snatches at those closest, grabbing the stunned Baron and dragging him into the darkness. A second “arm” breaks free, and the Shinto outcasts barely manage to evade it, driven towards the godlings in their flight.
Chaos - in every possible way - has been released as the maverick gods scramble to get out of the way.
Jack nodded to Simon as he cast the same spell himself. Of course, as an agent of chaos, it worked so much easier for him.
"You see, gods, your mistake was trying to rely on those with free will! You can't control everything! Not even chaos!" He let the chaos come forth from his hands, and he aimed it in a spraying motion, heading towards Loki.
Jack can finally get even with those gods who have forever seen him as nothing but a servant. Sure, he may have pushed Simon slightly in this direction, but he did like the kid.
Loki's eyes widen as the demon starts after him. WHY HIM?! What did he do to deserve this? This is not good. So, so, so not good. It's not even funny how not good this is, because he's got some crazy fallen angel coming at him from one direction, and angry Chaos hands grabbing at him from the other. THIS IS SO NOT OKAY.
He backs away, looking over his shoulder at the main body of Chaos. Even gods can panic, it turns out. Because while Coyote - on the other side of the Chaos - takes this moment to pop out of this plane to a much safer one, Loki is momentarily stranded between a rock and a hard place and too shocked by the fact that he of all people might be devoured by Chaos to think to make that jump to somewhere else - somewhere safer...
Jackson watches with wide eyes as the gods and godlings speak. The tension is as thick as the magical auras in the clearing. He scans the gathering. Simon is easy enough to find, hanging out near the front of the demigods. Their leader. Man, what is he thinking, going against all these gods? I mean, they had talked about it, but really? Flat-out confrontation? That doesn't seem like his mentor's style at all, and Jackson can't help but wonder if maybe he's got something else planned. He picks out Jack with ease: he's the one that looks like a fucking demon. Okay, so now where is... Ah! Jackson spies his father lurking behind the guy who... A shiver goes down Jackson's spine. Oh yeah, that is definitely the guy who killed Felix. There is no way he will ever forget that face. Yeah, these guys mean business.
Jackson's attention returns to Simon as he suddenly walks forward, Jack seeming to support him from behind. He squints, trying to figure just what is happening, when, literally, Chaos breaks out. Jackson falls back with a strangled yell. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, what the hell?! He pushes himself off the ground and runs for the clearing, his fedora and lantern clenched tightly in his hands. He really is not sure why he is running towards the battle. He looks for Simon, but his mentor is completely gone, enveloped by Chaos. He follows the lash of one of the arms of chaotic energy and sees it reach for Loki. On his father's other side is Jack, looking ready to shoot the trickster god into oblivion.
"Stop! No! Sto... fuck!" Jackson stumbles over a root trying to dodge a whip of darkness from the Chaos portal. He regains his balance, although the ground around him is definitely warping into ridges and valleys around him. A name pops into his head as he runs towards Loki: Jack's true name. Skidding to a stop at the demon's side, he yells it out, unsure exactly what it will do. He repeats it, adding, "S... stop! Don't touch Loki!"
Rick was poised to remind Simon of why he was fighting - Hecate was trying to play to his selfish side, but Simon was not fighting because he wanted to be with Daisuke (or at least, Rick suspected not). He was fighting because he wanted Daisuke to be free. But it turned out no reminder was needed. As Simon gave the order to follow Ari's lead, Rick nodded, and felt a swell of pride, and maybe relief, that his faith in the Frenchman hadn't been misplaced.
But when Simon released his spell, opened up Chaos on this realm, Rick experienced that sinking feeling that comes with dread. For a split second he watched as the tendrils of Chaos reached out and swallowed the Baron, bits of landscape. Just as he was preparing to rush forward, ready to add his energy to its control with the 5-4-5 spell, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Jackson ran toward Jack and Loki. Dammit.
Drawing his gun, Rick advanced a few steps. "Stand down, Jackson!" he bellowed, but the young man didn't seem to be stopping. Rick fired at the young man, internally cursing himself and the situation. But he didn't rethink his decision. He would fire again if the kid didn't stop his interference, or if his shot had missed its mark.
Oh now Jack realizes why he rarely trusted people with his name. There is always the chance they give it to someone like Jackson. Come on, Leonard was so close to smiting Loki and then he would try to absorb Loki's portfolio. But no, Loki spawn for some reason had to be so incredibly loyal, which is weird because Loki wasn't loyal to anyone.
He froze in his spot and didn't move any closer to Loki. He tried. He honestly tried, "Aw, that's cute... father and pawn. It is sad that someone with free will uses it to shackle to the biggest chessmaster next to Hecate..." He glanced at Hecate and gave her a mocking 'how u doin'?' smile.
Simon really did keep questionable company. Humans.
PART TWO