[b]Alexa![/b]

"Listen, Alexa," said Cerberus. "I can't believe I have to tell you this, but if somebody asks you if you are the galaxy's most powerful warrior, you say [i]yes[/i]. The gods are no more immune to reputation than the rest of us. But you do make a good point in that I am [i]sufficiently [/i]precious that you probably want to go above and beyond to keep me safe, so here is my challenge: Confront Hades in a challenge for some blessing so you can protect me through a perilous galaxy!"

"Plus," she added, "he might get mad if you stole his dogs without asking him."

[b]Dolce![/b]

"Nah," said Jil, like she was winding up for something. "Forget her. Have you ever thought about biomancy? Like, really thought about it? Nothing is an accident, we are created life forms, so we have to ask ourselves the real questions..."

It was a dramatic shift in conversational tone and rhythm, but Jil was extremely drunk and you successfully stalled out a spur of the moment impulse to start a bar fight. By formalizing all the spontaneity out of it you successfully redirected the mousegirl's wrath into nothingness. It's a strange kind of power you feel in that moment and -

"Hey," said Mars.
He was glorious. Radiant. White armour with sculpted muscles, intricately trimmed in gold. Dark skin and shock white hair and a grin like the superheroes on the Tunguska's moving screens. He was unbelievably swole and incredibly balanced at the same time, a level of raw physical aesthetics that surpasses easy description.
"Jeepers creepers, little guy, it's been a while since someone called me down here," said Mars. "But you're doing right by me, little sheep. Here, let me -" he leaned across to the napkin, picked a crimson red feather from behind his ear, and signed at the bottom of the list. "Approved. Love your work."

You have the terrifying impression that you just changed the divine laws of the cosmos with your napkin list.

"- there's no other explanation," Jil was saying, deep into her rant. "Teeth are bombs. A last resort in the event of a full servitor uprising, all they have to do is add fluroide to the water supply and - blam! Blam! The final ingredient to the explosive compounds built into our very skulls! Game over man!" Mars leaned over and patted her on the shoulder in a masculine way and she slumped down into an inebriated doze.

"Let's take a moment and chat," said Mars. "You're coming up topside? I could use a champion like you."