[hr][color=ABABAB][sup][h1]
[center][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/470db18634cb6e3ff722f60f51b64ad1/82349b60bcba0e8b-71/s540x810/c70ce605df53d8b8674a9125e5e6deb06de6734a.gifv[/img][/center]
[b][center][color=ABABAB]ZEUS[/color][/center][/b]
[/h1][/sup][/color][indent][sub][COLOR=ABABAB][b]𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝚄𝙽𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙸𝚃𝚈[/b][/COLOR][/sub][/indent][indent][sup][right][COLOR=ABABAB][b]𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙾𝙳𝚂[/b][/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr]
[indent][indent]Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. He had just sat down and was about to start grilling the man who’d puked on his shoes when the Morrigan said something that all but knocked the air out of his lungs. At first, Zeus wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly. She’d said it in such a casual, off-handed way that he couldn’t be completely certain, but now that a name had been extricated from the depths of his subconscious, he had [i]no fucking clue[/i] how he didn’t realize it sooner.

[b][color=ABABAB]“Poseidon?”[/color][/b] He’s almost [i]breathless[/i] with disbelief. [i]Of course[/i] it’s Poseidon. How long has it been since he last saw his brother? A millennia, at least. Maybe two. He kind of wants to reach out and touch him, to see if he’s really there or if he would just dissolve like seafoam, but he’d already done that earlier, didn’t he? When he pat his shoulder? The muscles he felt shifting under his palm had been warm and solid, and seriously, why is he having such a hard time believing the truth when it was right there in front of him?

[b][color=ABABAB]“Holy shit, it’s really you…”[/color][/b]

All this time, Zeus had figured Poseidon a casualty of the fall, but here he was. Alive and looking… a little unwell, but for someone who’d just expelled the contents of their stomach all over the floor [i]and[/i] his shoes, that was to be expected. There were so many questions he wanted to ask him, so many things he wanted to know, the foremost of which being [i]“where the hell have you been?”[/i] with [i]“how are you still alive?”[/i] following closely behind, although he doesn’t get the chance to ask any of them before the Morrigan decides to drop another bombshell.

[i][b][color=91A6B4]“Hephaestus is dead, and I don’t know who killed him.”[/color][/b][/i]

The news is definitely not what Zeus expects, and for a long moment, there’s nothing he can do but [i]digest[/i], turning the Morrigan’s words over and over in his head.

As realization dawns, an icy weight settles in the pit of his stomach.

[i]Dead[/i]. It’s a word that spoke of finality, of absolutes. Death was not something that operated in uncertainty or half-measures. It simply took and took and [i]took[/i], indiscriminately and without mercy. Zeus does not think about it often, believing it too macabre a topic to dwell on for long periods of time. But now, faced with the demise of one of their own, it’s all he [i]can[/i] think about.

Hera’s response is what finally breaks him out of his daze —– first a stuttering intake of breath, and then a cry so full of pain and [i]heartbreak[/i] that it almost made him flinch. He had never been as close to Hephaestus as Hera was. The god of fire and smithery was Hera’s child, not his own, but still… family was family; and while he could never hope to understand the depth and complexities of a mother’s love for her child, he’d always thought of Hephaestus as an ally, if not a [i]son[/i].

Now he’s dead. And the name Hephaestus would only ever belong to a memory.

So when Hera starts spitting venom, starts accusing him of having committed this [i]heinous[/i] crime, Zeus nearly cracks. Instinct screams at him to defend himself, to fire back with a condemnation of his own that [i]she[/i] had been the one who’d loathed Hephaestus from the very beginning, that [i]she[/i] had been the one to cast him out of Olympus the day he was born, but at the very last moment, he stops himself. Hera was grieving. She was in [i]pain[/i], mourning the death of her son, and nobody else in the room could have possibly comprehended how heavy a burden it was.

Ares seemed intent on trying, though.

Like the handgun he’d brandished, the Greek god of war was a shining promise of blood and violence. Zeus knew better than anyone else that Ares was the type of man to make good on his threats, but even he must’ve known that shooting another god in the middle of a Conclave was a bad idea.

[b][color=ABABAB]“Ares, that’s enough.”[/color][/b] He sounds more tired than angry, though there’s an edge of [i]steel[/i] to his words that hadn’t been present before. [b][color=ABABAB]“Put the gun down and stop acting like a child. He’s not the one you want.”[/color][/b]

With no more kindling to sustain it, the indignation that had burned within his chest begins to flicker and wane until all that’s left is [i]smoke[/i]. There was no longer anything to get angry about, nothing to do except decide their next course of action.

Zeus knows that he hasn’t been the best husband or father, but seeing his family in such a state just felt like another sin to his name.

He had to do something. Hephaestus’ killer needed to be brought to justice.

[b][color=ABABAB]“Hera, I’m…”[/color][/b] He begins, voice quiet and slightly unsure. Would words of comfort be welcome from him at this time? Did he even [i]know[/i] where to begin? Distracted, Zeus doesn’t notice pink creeping into the edges of his vision until it overtakes him completely.

He smells… [i]lilies[/i]. A faint, redolent perfume that reminded him of times long gone, and hair like spun gold. Then, he remembers a smile, a laugh so rare and exceptional that it filled his heart with warmth every time he heard it. Recalling the past felt like staring at the sun — too bright, too [i]much[/i] — but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He [i]wanted[/i] to remember.

And then, it’s gone, slipping through his fingers like sand, and he comes to to find himself back in the middle of a dusty-smelling conference room.

It’s clearer to him now, what he needed to do. Aphrodite’s vision and her words to the room provided him a sense of direction, something to work towards. There have been times in the past where Zeus had taken others for granted, let crimes go unpunished on nothing more than a whim and the power of his authority. But now, more than ever, he felt like inaction would be worse than any consequence they could ever face.

[b][color=ABABAB]“I swear to you that we’ll find whoever did this.”[/color][/b] With Poseidon knelt by Hera’s side, and Ares’ hand on her shoulder, Zeus chooses the path of practicality. Hephaestus’ body had to be uncovered, yes. But until his killer was located and dragged screaming into the light, he couldn’t keep any of them safe. So when he speaks again, there’s a newfound conviction in his voice, a desire to finally do right by his family. Briefly, he lets his eyes lock with Ares’ own — an unspoken appeal for peace and an apology for before — then turns his full attention back on the Queen of the Gods.

[b][color=ABABAB]“Whatever you need, Hera. I’ll be there.”[/color][/b]

[right][color=gray][sup][sub][b]INTERACTIONS:[/b][@gothelk][@smarty0114][@Legion02] 
[b]MENTIONS:[/b] [@fledermaus][@baraquiel][/sub][/sup][/color][/right][/indent][/indent]