[color=gray][center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ed/76/4b/ed764b6c5fd7b54439148f8a39a8f2d9.gif[/img]
[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220426/c0d45d35f3cf2448f044f5c20067ffd2.png[/img]
[right][sub]location: The Olympic Club
mood: [color=facade]wallowy[/color]
interactions: Hera | Hati [@KZOMBI3] | Pothos [@Horangi][/sub][/right][/center]
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[indent][indent]A cloud of grey, acrid smoke spooled out from the soft lips of the second Erote, the loneliest of them all. Anteros had quit smoking forty years ago, and yet, his habit returned for one day every year. He adored many things in this world: his grandmother, champagne, and the pleasant little stories mortals acted out before his eyes. He did not, however, adore the egos in the room below him.

This would be a day of sharp words, and the truth was, Anteros was tired. As he leaned over the second floor balcony, his shoulders sagged, heavy with what seemed to be the weight of the world. It was easy, in these times of gathered gods, to recognize his own loneliness. Loneliness, he supposed, was his curse. He was, after all, little more than a child’s teddy bear, only with thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams.

[color=7845b8]“Anteros!”[/color] his grandmother’s scolding straightened his back, a smoking stick frozen on its journey back to his mouth. [color=7845b8]“You know my thoughts on smoking,”[/color] Hera said as she stepped onto the balcony.

Anteros smirked as he turned around to face her. [color=facade]“Always offer one to the hostess?”[/color] he said, fishing out a fresh cigarette and a light from his jacket pocket. She was much too regal to carry her own, it seemed. 

The pair took simultaneous drags, and sat quietly for a moment as their smoke mingled together in the air above them. Hera broke it first.

[color=7845b8]“No sign of your father?”[/color] The question hung around for a moment, like the smoke that would no doubt hang off his suit.

Anteros sighed, diverting his attention to the sky and its myriad of blues and greys. [color=facade]“Not yet. Don’t know if he’ll have much to say anyways.”[/color] If this bothered the seemingly young man, it did not show. He had inherited his mother’s poker face. 

[color=7845b8]“My son is many things, but a great speaker? Unfortunately, that has never been his strong suit. It is hereditary, I suppose.”[/color] Hera and Anteros shared a smile. [color=7845b8]“He never had my taste though, and we both know that, unlike your mother, I’ve never supported a losing side.”[/color] 

Hera’s words eased the burden of his existence, at least for a moment. He understood all too well how the other Olympians felt about their queen, but to him, she had always been this way. Strong, scary even, but supportive, even at the worst of times. At this point, she felt more like family than his parents did.

[color=facade]“I should go make my appearance. Wouldn’t want the children left unsupervised,”[/color] Anteros said, crushing the butt of his cigarette against the stone railing he leaned against. 

[color=7845b8]“If you see your sister, tell her I’d like to speak with her as well,”[/color] Hera said, waving lazily as Anteros stepped inside. He nodded, before shutting the balcony door, and stepping out of Hera’s private suite. He swapped his cigarettes for a phone. Once he had been a squire for his brother, then his mother, and now, his grandmother. Anteros was ever the dutiful servant.

[quote]To: [color=#C08290]Pot Head[/color]
[color=facade]Are you here yet? Grandma wants you and she still hates using a phone[/color][img]https://i.imgur.com/NwNNCCm.gif[/img][/quote]

Down the stairs, the growing chatter of the Festival grew louder, and it wasn’t long before his legs had carried him into the crowd, swimming amidst faces, some of which he hadn’t seen since the last gathering. Love both faint and intoxicating swirled around him, disorienting him for a moment. The feelings of gods and the mortals who served them were waves threatening to drag him under, but he had long ago perfected his backstroke. Breathing deeply, he maneuvered his way through the divine bodies. With no sign of his sister yet, he was looking for one deity in particular.

He found him watching, like he always was. Hati was observant, and he should be; he made a living off of it. Anteros sidled up to him, that man who seemed to watch everyone but him. He wore a smirk, despite the feelings inside him that threatened to go to war over the slightest provocation. [color=facade]“So, are you as excited for finger sandwiches as I am?”[/color][/indent][/indent][/color]