[hr][color=eed853][sup][h1]
[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c0/40/be/c040be320362bb1b44790ade5b2ae4ec.gif[/img][/center]
[b][center][color=eed853]APOLLO[/color][/center][/b]
[/h1][/sup][/color][indent][sub][COLOR=eed853][I]SEATTLE UNIVERSITY[/I][/COLOR][/sub][/indent][indent][sup][right][COLOR=eed853][b]freaked out, kinda turned on and trying not get shot[/b][/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr]


The Conclave devolved into chaos faster than a frat party with a severely fucked girls to guys ratio. He had a moment, the briefest of silences, to mull over what this meant. One of their own was dead, murdered if this meeting was anything to go off. The Morrigan wouldn’t call this meeting if she suspected that his fellow Olympian had committed suicide by Colossus. The realization left a pit in his stomach, a fear that had been put to rest by numerous run-ins with death, awoken once again. 

Quickly, he turned his head and met Artemis’ gaze. For once, she looked as surprised as him, and the meeting of their eyes was a conversation of its own, a communion between two beings that had always been intertwined. For all her secrets and plans, Artemis was scared, and Apollo recognized the look in her.

Per usual, Hera quickly found a way to make it all about her. He was rolling his eyes at her performance when she launched into her accusations, catching him off guard. He raised his hands in a show of innocence, but before he could open his mouth to defend himself, she’d moved on to Herc, and then to Zeus. A sigh of relief rushed past his lips as Athena stepped in, always the voice of reason. He was pretty sure this couldn’t have gone any worse.

And then Ares pulled out a gun. 

[color=eed853][b]“Tartarus’ balls, dude!”[/b][/color] Apollo stepped back, graceful even when caught off guard. He looked up and saw Mars, and if he hadn’t been having the most chaotic morning of the last thirty years, he might have been surprised. Between Poseidon’s return however, and Hephaestus’ death, Apollo had started to roll with the punches. Honestly, at this point, how could anything get more confusing?

The Fates saw this challenge, and laughed.

The conference room door opened, and time slowed as Eros walked in. Confusion and desire came to blows inside his head and his breath hitched, trapped inside his chest. Memories flashed before his eyes, lust filled nights and twisted sheets, and as they did, he grinned, granting his face it’s famous radiance. Hephaestus was dead, but Eros was alive and well and winking at him.

He had half a mind to bolt, dragging Eros behind him. They had a century of lost time to make up, a century to catch up on, and if that wink meant anything, Apollo hadn’t been the only one thinking about their nights together. As sweet as that sounded though, he was here now, and he couldn’t exactly run out while his family was on the verge of civil war. Sure, that was just another Tuesday, but still. Responsibilities, and all that jazz Artemis liked to drone on about. He’d waited a hundred years, and as much as it pained him, he could wait just a little more. 

Pushing visions of tangled forms and passionate whispers from his thoughts, Apollo met Eros’ wink with a smirk and a slight nod, before joining him in his attempt to defuse Ares. [color=eed853][b]“Ares, come on. All that gun is gonna do is put us all in an uncomfortable position. You wanna kill Shango, the alleys he sleeps in are usually empty,”[/b][/color] Apollo said. His words possessed a certain calmness, a lullaby almost. He glanced back at Artemis, silently requesting her assistance, but she remained seated, offering him only an uncaring shrug. Typical.
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