While those of his Olympian colleagues that were present apparently commenced catching up with each other after centuries apart, Hephaestus' mind was busy pondering the presence of the only outsider, if one could call him that, amongst them. There was no doubting that the man was more than mortal, but he was certainly no Olympian, and the blacksmith couldn't help but wonder whether or not he had seen him somewhere before. You could meet a lot of people over the course of thousands of years, and that meant forgetting a lot of people as well. He continued to rattle his mind for faces he hadn't seen for hundreds of years, from the Renaissance to the Industrial Revolution, but none seemed to match that which stood before him. He was about to step forward and probe the assumed foreign deity for answers before his sinuses were assaulted with the all too familiar scent of alcohol and depravity.

Hephaestus raised an eyebrow when Dionysus threw his arm around him. The God of Wine was probably the closest thing Hephaestus had to a friend amongst his divine siblings. Or rather, the one who could get him sufficiently drunk enough to pour his heart out to. Perhaps it was their mutual ascension to Olympus or shared torment from the Queen of the Gods that gave them an unspoken bond, but regardless, Hephaestus allowed himself the slightest hint of a grin after Dionysus made his entrance. At least he'd have someone to talk to.

"Evidently they do not. You still smell like someone set a brewery on fire."

For now, Hephaestus would socialize with his siblings, but his mind couldn't help but wander. Who was the curious old man amongst them, and perhaps, more importantly, if the Gods all seemed to be appearing at the same time, where were the children of Cronus and Rhea? The absence of the triumvirate of Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon hadn't gone unnoticed by Hephaestus, even if he was far less concerned with the whereabouts of his loving mother.