[color=#963437][sup][h1]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/AVSkNfe.gif[/img][/center]
[b][center][color=#963437]𝕃 𝕆 𝕂 𝕀[/color][/center][/b]
[/h1][/sup][/color][indent][sub][COLOR=#963437][b]LOCATION: ꜱᴇᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴛy[/b][/COLOR][/sub][/indent][indent][sup][right][COLOR=#963437][b]MOOD: ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.[/b][/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr]
[sup][right] interactions:[@Danvers][/right][/sup]

[indent][indent][color=gray]"Oh, wait! Did Zaddy play Tetris with a horse again? ...No? A cow maybe? Or a goat?"

Loki shot up from his seat with indignation, a seat which he had been sulking in for the past five minutes after the frostiest hug from his own daughter. Onto his feet, and showing a vigor he hadn’t shown towards any other mishap that happened in that damnable room, Loki shouted for everyone to hear, [color=#963437][b]“How dare you! I haven’t done that in age—”[/b][/color]

Well, it was rather odd that Hermes of all people would call him ‘zaddy’. They had a partnership of sorts at his casino, occasionally doubling together for the odd con, but never has Hermes shown an inkling of sexual attraction or familial connection to Loki. It dawned on him, [color=#963437][b]“—oh wait, you mean Zeus. Sorry.”[/b][/color]

Loki retook his seat, crossing one leg over the other and assuming the Thinker pose. While the whole debacle this Conclave has turned into is, frankly, hilarious, it does bring up a lot of questions. Yes, of course, there’s the ‘whodunnit’ – but, more importantly, [i]how[/i]? If he learned how, then Loki might be able to finish off his enemies more effectively (more effectively translating to not spending hours creating spa invites outside of the Colossus bounds only for the god to decline his invitation). It would certainly solve a lot of problems for him.

[color=#963437][b]“I, also, would like to ask,”[/b][/color] Loki began, puffing out his chest and donning a faux curious look, [color=#963437][b]“why does the Wicked Witch of the West care about a son that she threw off a [i]mountain[/i]? I don’t know, I’m just spitballing here, but I think Hera is the killer.”[/b][/color]

With a devious smirk, Loki leaned back in his chair and spread his arms wide as if to say ‘I’m an open book here’. No doubt some of them might accuse him of murder, but there really is no foreseeable reason for him to kill Hephaestus. Well, unless he decided murder is a justifiable punishment for being ugly, which is apparently what Hera thought some thousand odd years ago.

As is, once Loki discovers how Hephaestus was killed, Odin is about to be in a world of hurt.[/color][/indent][/indent]

[hr][hr]
[color=91A6B4][sup][h1]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Sb8kcD2.gif[/img][/center]
[b][center][color=91A6B4]𝔗 𝔥 𝔢   𝔐 𝔬 𝔯 𝔯 𝔦 𝔤 𝔞 𝔫[/color][/center][/b]
[/h1][/sup][/color][indent][sub][COLOR=91A6B4][b]LOCATION: ꜱᴇᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴛy[/b][/COLOR][/sub][/indent][indent][sup][right][COLOR=91A6B4][b]MOOD: ʜᴀꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ.[/b][/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr]
[sup][right] interactions:[@gothelk] & everyone at the Conclave[/right][/sup]

[indent][indent][color=gray][i]The smell of a hospital. A firm chest behind her back, arms encasing her. The war is so far away from them…[/i] The Morrigan’s nails scratched five perfect deep grooves into the podium. A lot of things annoyed the Morrigan, but dealing with the Greeks topped the list – especially when one of them decided to use their powers on her without permission. Aphrodite’s intention may have been to calm the room, but remembering the world wars only caused her ire to grow. The Morrigan has never loved and [i]will[/i] never love. 

[color=91A6B4][b]“Are all of you done yet?”[/b][/color] The Morrigan calls out, her voice commanding as she stares the only Roman god down. 

Like a soldier marching to face combat, the Morrigan steps away from the podium and advances towards Mars. His words ring in her head with each footstep and all she can hear are the gods constantly asking for her to – what? Magically have all the answers?

[color=91A6B4][b]“Let me make this perfectly clear, to [i]all[/i] of you.”[/b][/color] The Morrigan begins, voice assertive and unwavering, [color=91A6B4][b]“I am [i]not[/i] your keeper. I am [i]not[/i] your mother. I am [i]not[/i] in charge of a bunch of sniveling, poor excuses for deities. You want your answers? Then stop with the theatrics and [i]𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫[/i].”[/b][/color]

The Morrigan turned on her heel and returned to the podium. Her phone flashed with an incoming phone call and she scowled at it before rejecting the call. There’s no time for that right now, she has a group of unruly gods to babysit, apparently. 

The state of the Greek pantheon is devastatingly sad and despondently useless. It was one of their own who died, though, and part of the Morrigan wanted to let them mourn. She wanted to sympathize with them, see their hurt and soothe it. The Morrigan wanted to feel bad for them – they just made it so damn hard to. They find out Hephaestus died, and this is the reaction from them all? To fall so easily to their emotions like hapless mortals? There is a time for mourning, but the Morrigan has the room until 1:00 PM and throwing tantrums isn’t in her itinerary. 

[color=91A6B4][b]“Now, if you have all calmed down, I’ll tell you what I know.”[/b][/color] The Morrigan inhales and exhales, [color=91A6B4][b]“Which is absolutely nothing.”[/b][/color] Before anyone could interrupt, the Morrigan holds up her hand to command silence, [color=91A6B4][b]“Hephaestus’ thread of fate has been snipped which means he has died, and not in a way fate had intended. Someone manipulated his fate and murdered him somehow. How? I don’t know, I have my crows searching for his body currently, but we don’t know where he is.”[/b][/color]

The Morrigan made the executive decision to keep from them that she’s never seen fate manipulated so. Never has the Morrigan found a thread of fate cleanly snipped like she did at Hephaestus’ home, unlike the fray of life that she always discovers.
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