[center][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/790663704499847176/1014502592379891814/Cool_Text_-_Apollo_418320825804153.png[/img][/center]

Sat alone in a windowless room atop a simply-appointed chair, Apollo plucked away at her tortoise-shell lire, quietly humming a melody underneath her soft, quiet breaths. The space was almost entirely constructed of wood, in contrast to the towering pseudo-stone temple that sat high above on the peak of the Isle of Delphos, though it was no less richly-appointed, intricate shaped and patterns carved out in the wooden walls, like dozens of friezes etched out in wood. Aside the sound of Apollo's humming and the strumming of her lyre in the low-ceilinged room, there was nothing, not even air flowing quickly enough to disturb the goddess-in-false-skin's loosely-pinned toga, or to jostle her golden-blonde hair. 

"...Hm. No, that won't do," she sighed, shaking her head, abruptly pausing as she placed her lyre down on the floor. "The lyre simply doesn't sound aggressive enough. Percussion, perhaps? Some sort of drum? That should capture the aggression and noise of thunder, I think..." She mused to herself, idly chewing her lip.

The chamber then filled with the sound of an exaggerated crack - not quite like thunder nor of metal or stone falling apart. It was almost crystalline in its quality, though any grace in its lilt was lost in its overabundant volume. With a flash of light, a set of six, shimmering opalescent wings unfurled from nothingness before pulling back to reveal none other than Hermes, messenger of the gods, bearing in one hand the twinned-serpent stave Kerykeion and adorned in his distinctive wide-brimmed helmet. He sank from the air to land lightly on the floor as his wings furled in upon themselves to become a single feathered cloak draped across his shoulders.

“I come bearing a message for Apollo, God of the Arts, from Zeus, King of the Gods and the Heavens, the All-Father on High, with the utmost exigency.”

"Ah!" Apollo blinked, her eyes briefly widening in shock, ears [i]ringing[/i] as she recovered from the shock of being blasted with such raucous noise at such a short distance. She was used to Hermes's abrupt entrances, of course -- but when composing songs, it was difficult to do so while protecting her ears, leaving them dangerously vulnerable to abrupt disruption.

Shaking her head, she cleared her throat as she fixed Hermes with her gaze, nodding for him to continue. "Please, brother -- deliver your message." She said, doing her best to not appear off-balance by straightening her back.

“Ah, what was that?” Hermes craned his head and cupped a hand to the side of his helmet. “Sorry I did not hear that at all, mind speaking up?”

Apollo resisted the urge to let out a peal of of laughter, though the noise still came out as a strange, clipped snort, the corners of her mouth twisting up into a small smile. "I said, PLEASE, BROTHER, DELIVER YOUR MESSAGE!" She shouted, clearing her throat once again.

Suddenly, the large wooden door to the room rolled open at a breakneck pace -- and in stormed the armored shapes of two towering, golden-haired men clad in the traditional armor of Hoplites, a xiphos wreathed in crackling lighting each in their left hands.
“Oh, how lovely.” Hermes cooed as the two guardians charged in only to be met by the two bemused gods. “I accept your offering.” He made a breezy gesture with one hand, and the guardians’ crackling xiphos vanished from their hands.

Apollo blinked -- in near-perfect unison with her children, in fact -- who promptly stopped in their tracks upon seeing that Apollo was not, in fact, in any danger. The goddess herself glanced over her shoulder at the visibly confused bodyguards, then back at Hermes, a look somewhere between confusion, mild frustration, and amusement etched into her youthful features.

"...Those weapons are not the easiest to replace, I hope you know -- but I suppose that is the point?"

Hermes pointed to himself emphatically. “Me? Point? Not sure what you mean, your sentinels here offered them to me on your behalf. Most gracious and magnanimous of them, naturally.” He tipped the brim of his helmet to the two. “And if I am not mistaken, you are Apollo’s scions, yes? This message concerns you, so you should remain to hear it.” He snapped his free hand, producing a black-and-gold filigreed letter seemingly from thin air, and a broad projection of it and its contents sprang into vision behind the herald’s head as he began to read from it aloud. 

[center][h3]BY DECREE OF THE LORD OF OLYMPUS[/h3]
The Highest, King of the Gods, Father of All:
[b]ZEUS[/b]

Let it be known that Zeus is dead. His rightful Heir – forever may he rule – has succeeded him to the divine name and mantle of Zeus.

Apollo, God of the Arts, and their Scions, are formally invited to a gathering of the High Pantheon at Zeus’ palace in Mount Olympus, on the noon of the day following receipt of this note. Zeus will accept oaths of fealty, and make the first announcements of his reign.

Signed, Zelos
Majordomo of the Highest Palace, Servant of Zeus Almighty[/center]

"...Ah." Apollo pursed her lips, a look of mild disappointment creeping onto her face before it transformed into one of adequate -- if somewhat performative, grief -- her hand brought to her heart. "A tragedy! An utter tragedy -- and to think I had just been composing a song for him," Apollo said, shaking her head, though the Korybantes behind her had since shifted into stoic, statue-like stances, even without their weapons. "...I will bring those of my scions I am able to to the palace -- but I do hope Zeus will understand it is impractical to bring along [i]all[/i] of my offspring."

“Ah, yes, where comes the next bit - I have also been instructed to deliver a verbal [i]summons[/i] to the same effect.” Hermes replied dryly. “The impractical shall have to be practiced, but miracle-worker that you are I imagine you will make do.”

"I do not suppose you have the [i]time[/i] to be adequately compensated for such a miracle?" Apollo asked. "There are at least five centaur lords of great political significance that call me father, and each is a great many miles apart." She sighed, shaking her head.

“Oh do not worry, I deliver on collect,” Hermes quipped. “...and I deliver swift as Starlight. They shall be informed ere scarcely after I depart this chamber.”

"Would you be so very kind as to [i]permit[/i] me to compensate you on their behalf?" Apollo asked, her voice dripping with faux-honey, gently teasing Hermes rather than insulting him. Hermes waved his free hand airily in expectation and assent.

"Five of my golden obol, one for each clan-lord," Apollo began, snatching up a handful from the leather satchel beneath her chair -- one must always expect Hermes, after all -- and an owed song, composed and performed by yours truly, in your owner. Does that sound to be fair compensation?" She said, holding the shimmering coins out toward him. "To your swiftness and boundlessly quick wit, I think." 

“Oh [i]very well[/i].” Hermes said tiredly, waving his hand, each of the golden obols vanishing one by one. Doubtlessly he had grown so exasperated with the custom that he resorted to trickery such as he had upon his arrival to procure alternative offerings. “No fun allowed it is. Was there anything else, or shall I be on my way?”

"Truly, I would give you something more interesting if I had the chance, though I do hope my music is at least [i]entertaining[/i]," Apollo sighed.

"No, that'll be all." 

“Very well.” Hermes rose into the air once more, his feathered cloak once more unfolding into a set of six shimmering wings. “I shall see you and yours upon Olympus then.” The six wings folded upon themselves, obscuring Hermes entirely before wrapping further and further upon themselves until nothing remained, the messenger god vanishing with another exaggerated crack and flash of light the same as he had arrived.

Apollo abruptly rose to her feet the very moment Hermes departed, promptly whipping around to face their offspring. "We depart immediately -- but do inform the attendants to make sure nothing has been stolen from my rooms."