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4 yrs ago
Busy as all hell right now. Working hard to get responses up!
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5 yrs ago
Home from vacation, should be catching up on all my roleplays over the next few days :)
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5 yrs ago
Gonna be gone camping until tomorrow evening. I'll try to keep up with things via phone, but I definitely won't have any posts up until tomorrow
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5 yrs ago
Don't read through old stuff you wrote, just don't
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5 yrs ago
Should have a post up for all my RPs today :)
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Bio



Heya! I'm Smarty and I'm just a dude who likes to write. That's really about it. I'll pretty much join anything and everything if I'm being honest, as long as it looks interesting. Don't hesitate to PM me if you wanna chat or something :) I promise I don't bite, I'm just very awkward that's all :D

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In Paramount 10 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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In Paramount 13 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


TIMOR
THE BALL
mopey, bothered by the GOAT, murder time


Timor watched the revelry from the shadows, nursing a glass of water, and his pride. How easily Popmpous Apollo would’ve fallen, had they been away from the prying eyes of mortals. Yet now, Apollo danced across the ballroom, and Timor sat skulking in the dark. He looked up to his father and uncle, and allowed himself, for a moment, to picture the day when their visions were reality; the day when order had conquered chaos, the day when his family stood above the other pantheons in victory, the day when Rome walked again.

Of course, a part of him knew, there would be no place for him or Metus in that world, at least not in the light. He and his brother were beasts of war, mad dogs, and if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that mad dogs did not make good princes. He might leave fear in his wake for all of eternity, but he would never have a throne. Timor chose to believe this was for the best.

He sensed Metus before he saw him, felt the terror begin to lace through the air, faint, but unmistakable. A black cat prowling through the grass, Timor slipped from his vantage point near the stairs and began moving through the crowd, in search of his brother. He might not be able to send the twin archers into the void, but Metus could at least help him find Artemis’ other little bird. The other girl he’d seen had managed to evade his gaze, but she could only hide for so long.

Timor’s path was suddenly blocked by a boy, or at least, a god in the shape of a boy. Pan looked up at him, smirking, a devil in Dolce. “Looking for someone?” Pan raised his champagne flute to his lips and took a generous swig.

“None of your business, goat.” His words were ice, encasing life as the temperature dropped far below freezing. Timor stared daggers down at the lord of the wilds, but received only a chuckle in response. He clenched his fist and ground his teeth; he wasn’t used to being laughed at.

“Come now, is that any way to speak to your father’s new partner?”

Timor didn’t like the way Pan emphasized his words. He had the sense that he was being toyed with, and it only made him angrier. Pan seemed to take the rage as jest, and laughed again, louder this time, so hard he had to grip his stomach. Finally, he calmed himself, and wiped away tears. “Relax, Killer. I’m here to help,” Pan said.

Timor crossed his arms, the rage receding, if only slightly. “I do not seek help from Grecians.”

Pan smiled. “Of course you don’t. Blood feud and all that.” Pan licked his lips. He was enjoying this. “I just figured, you might like to know, that I saw a girl sitting in the bar, looking much too interested in the various exits and entrances. Almost like she was planning an escape. Does that interest you?”

Timor grunted, unwilling to show any approval in his face, even if that small noise had been enough for Pan to know he’d accomplished his goal. The god of fear surveyed Pan briefly, weighing his words. “Where’s my brother?”

“Now that’s an easy one.” Pan turned, and pointed across the ballroom to where Metus stood, flanked by Cupid and Venus. “Better hurry. There’s spies afoot.” Pan slipped away, as quickly as he’d come, laughing at his own jest. Timor shook his head, but wasted no more time. Pan was right. Perhaps this called for some mad dogs.

Oh, Beloved.
The Ball
no place for pining!


interactions: @icy hotx@smarty0114 collab




“Waiting for someone?”

“For me of course. Lovers like us cannot be kept apart; no lonesome corner or boring book is enough to keep me away forever, my love. How long have you been moping in this corner, Baldr?”

A smile graced the chiseled features of the most beloved, wandering mind pulled back to reality by the jests of his friends. “I was not moping,” Baldr said, though nothing could be further from the truth. It didn’t matter now, though. The arrival of two of his closest confidants on this plane of existence was already raising his spirits.

He swung his own arm around Than’s shoulders. The Greeks and their flirtatious ways had once been a mystery to him, but he’d grown used to them both over the centuries. “I’m surprised you were allowed past the front doors, Than. Has the big man upstairs finally softened to your family?”

Thanatos cracked a smirk at that notion. Far as he was concerned, no one dictated where he was allowed to go, especially not some “King of Gods” that spent his time golfing and playing in the snow.

“The only big man upstairs I take orders from is the Father of my savior Jesus Christ.”

Thanatos was able to hold a straight face for a moment before he was laughing at his own words. Leaving an affectionate pat to Baldr’s chest before pulling out of the embrace, only to secure them two glasses of bubbling gold. Not Thanatos’ choices of drink, but he had a shift to get to after the ball and unfortunately couldn’t get wasted, “Really, I couldn’t get out of attending. My brother’s ‘boyfriend’ is as meddlesome as they come, I imagine the same can be said of your mother. Has she found you a wife yet?”

“Not yet,” Baldr said, swirling the golden liquid in his glass, “and hopefully not-” Baldr’s words faded into the void, stolen by the arrival of Her, pale and cold as the realm she’d once lorded over, as hauntingly beautiful and ageless as the last time they’d met. For a moment, the ballroom fell away, and the only obstacle between them was space.

Space that he could not cross.

The stark realization pushed him back into reality, perhaps too harshly. He tore his eyes from Hel and returned them to Than. “Sorry, I, uh,” Baldr fumbled for the right words, “Did you know that she was coming?” The most beloved suddenly felt smaller than Ratatoskr, a speck among the branches of the World Tree.

Thanatos knew that look on Baldr’s face all too well and could feel the weight of his words on his own chest. To have felt love and to have lost it to means impervious to their godly powers- Thanatos understood, completely. There was a cold glint in his eyes as he stared at the sparkling goddess besides Hel, “Only just moments ago, I didn’t expect Skadi’s meddling to work so quickly. “ Thanatos saw the nod and promptly stepped into the view of Baldr, his back turned towards the two girls and shielding his friend’s hopeless pinning.

A sound of annoyance left Thanatos as he grumbled about having to go through such lengths, “You plan on staring at her from across the room the rest of this miserable existence, Golden Boy? What are you waiting for? The fucking stars to align?” Thanatos huffs with a shake of his head. Seeing his friend squander all of these crafted opportunities to reconnect with the woman that held his heart made quick work of getting under his skin, just as it always had.

“Shut up,” Baldr said, scoffing and playfully shoving his friend. “We’re just friends. Anything else would just complicate things.” Baldr craned his neck to see around Thanatos, but Skadi and Hel had already disappeared. “Anyways, you’re one to talk. Hypnos was looking for you the other day, and since you weren’t with me, I guess I’m just wondering where you could’ve disappeared to?” Baldr had flipped the tables with the effortless charisma that had earned him his reputation. “Don’t tell me you’re harassing me about my love life when you’re out spending days in strange apartments?” Baldr cocked an eyebrow, smirking.

Thanatos chuckled at that idea, ending up in stranger’s beds would have been a much more exciting tale to tell, but unfortunately it was not the truth of his life. He shook his head and turned to face the party again, arms crossed over his chest, “Ah yes, my strange apartment visits when I’m knocking down doors to get to my lover Gertrude who has collapsed and broken her hip from old age, or even more exhilarating Oscar on Main street whose wife called because he was having a heart attack, couldn’t believe that bastard had a wife all this time!” Thanatos clicks his tongue in disbelief, playing the part of a scorned lover just long enough to get his sarcasm through.

“Don’t say I’m harassing you; I can call Skadi over if you’re feeling a little masochistic, B.” Thanatos replied smoothly changing the focus back onto his friend, “I’m just looking out for you, Golden Boy, if Hel is the one you want, go for it, complications be damned. Living forever sucks but at least you’d get to spend it getting laid for once.”

Baldr sipped his champagne and shook his head. Whatever there was between him and Hel, it was delicate. A treasure that was not to be brought out and flaunted in front of everyone, but tucked away, safe from prying eyes and clumsy hands. Fear wrapped it’s frozen tendrils around him at the thought of the eyes that would fall upon them, and the whispers that might spring forth. Their families were destined to tear eachother apart, to plunge the world into darkness. The legends said that he would rise again, after the Aesir and Vanir had leveled Midgard, but they said nothing of a bride.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree. Our fathers are regularly trying to kill each other, and I think my mother would lose her mind if I brought her to meet Loki’s daughter.” Baldr stared down at his champagne, unwilling to admit that none of that would really matter, not so long as he had her. But that’s not what she wants.

Thanatos snorts but doesn’t push the subject any further; there would be another day to try to convince his friend. When he looked up at the crowd again his eyes met Eros’, immediately screwing up into disgust at the wink thrown his way as he flashed him a friendly bird in return. The ball room had shifted, people joining in to dance alongside Apollo. While other smaller groups pressed closer together and claimed the shadowy outskirts of the room, “You know, I’ve been thinking- s’weird that the Romans rounded us all up, don’t you think? Not like I’m one to talk, but they skip every conclave, and then all of a sudden bring us all together? I feel like I’m waiting for a butler to appear and tell us there’s been a murder we have to solve or somethin’.”

“I’ve been wondering about that myself,” Baldr replied. “I don’t remember Jupiter being one for tricks, yet this whole thing reeks of them.” The Aesir looked around the room, spotted his mother and Xolotl entering, clocked Hati, left behind by Odin. Perhaps his father held insight into Jupiter’s plans. He made a note to check in later. “I’m starting to think I should’ve just stayed home tonight. Might’ve been better for my sanity. All these schemes and secrets, it’s like Paris all over again,” he said, recalling the court intrigue that had plagued so many of his fellow gods.

“Paris, London, DC, the Conclave two weeks ago— it’s always one thing or another with them. If it weren’t so exhausting it would be entertaining.” Thanatos replied with a sour chuckle, “But I-“

“Hate all the gods and how arrogant they are? Toasty, haven’t you complained enough to poor Baldr for a good lifetime or two?” Skadi interjected, seemingly materializing beside her favorite Norse man, slinking her arm through his, “You know it’s far too early in both of your lives to be sulking and gossiping during a social gathering. Beloved, why don’t we leave the King of Melancholy to brood by himself and go have some fun, unless you want to third wheel and not bring us down, Toast?” Skadi bat her full lashes at Thanatos, donning her perfect pout as mischief twinkled in her eyes.

“Like I’d be the third wheel, didn’t you say he was my boyfriend earlier?” Thanatos scoffed, flicking his finger roughly against Skadi’s nose.

The Most Beloved grinned at Skadi’s return, unbothered by the bickering that quickly resumed between her and Than. “And what exactly does fun mean, here?” Baldr said, smirking. He’d learned the hard way that he’d likely end up going with Skadi no matter what she said, but it still paid to be on your toes. Especially with the ski queen.

“Ah, is this caution I’m hearing, Beloved?” Skadi teased and swung her arm out in a grand gesture, “Anything is more fun than what you’re currently doing, but the bar beckons and then the dance floor, and maybe if you decide to shed the ‘good boy’ persona you’ve been playing something mind blowing later on.” Skadi’s glacier blue eyes turned to Baldr’s giving him a playful wink as her arm slide from his and her hand slipped down to his, she wasn’t letting her efforts go to waste, even if she had to play the long con game, “Is that acceptable for you two?” she asked gently tugging on his hand, as her gaze bounced between Baldr and Thanatos.

Death incarnate rolled his eyes, he could practically hear the meddlesome thoughts bouncing off that empty head of hers, “not like we really have a choice anyways, right?”

Baldr swung an arm around Thantos’ shoulder, pulling him along as he followed Skadi’s lead. “Oh cheer up Than. We’ll try not to drink you under the table this time,” Baldr said, grinning. His eyes swept the pool of swaying bodies in search of Hel, but still, she evaded his sight. He thought to ask Skadi, but caught himself; no reason to give those stories anymore credence.
“Riiight, like either of you know anything about moderation when it comes to alcohol.” Thanatos quipped with a smirk but followed along without resistance. Out of the corner of his eye did a familiar glimpse of a love lost catch his attention. Thanatos pulled away from the “party train” momentarily as he looked around wide eyed, but no priestess filled his view, and he let out a chuckle, popping a few buttons on his shirt as he rejoined his friends.

“Alright, give me your worst.”



PAN
THE BALL
casually hating mortals again, lusting for that d, ready for the show


“I understand your urgency, Mr. Oakley, but the Vice-Mayor is just not comfortable making any big decisions until-”

“Of course, Mr. Vaughn. The silky smooth tones of Pan's voice slipped in amongst Mr. Vaughn's nervous words, stealing his thunder before he knew he had it. "Honestly, that seems so formal, I’ve been on the phone with you every day the past two weeks, trying and trying to get a meeting scheduled, and so, I feel, like maybe we’re on a first name basis. Am I right, Jerry?” Pan’s back and forths with the mayor's office had grown increasingly vexing. Had it occurred to them that their precious mayor had gone and gotten himself killed?

Stunned silence gripped the other end of the line. Jerry Vaugn may have been realizing that, although Peter Oakley was right about how many times they’d spoken in the past two weeks, he’d never handed out his first name. That morsel of information had been dug up, easily enough by Pan, among more personal details. If he was smart enough to figure grasp any of that, Pan never let him seize the victory.

“Look, Jerry, I like you. So I’ll be straight forward. I’m starting to feel, like mayyyyyyybe, the Vice-Mayor is avoiding me. Is that right, Jerry?” Pan’s words had an unmistakable edge to them, a tenor that grated against the nerves and screamed out ‘Danger!’

“No, no, no, of course not sir. It’s just, well, like I said, with the current uncertainty-”

“Jerry. The mayor has been missing for damn near three weeks. I’m not sure how much true crime you watch, but most disappearances turn into homicides after forty eight hours. Tell the Vice-Mayor I’ll be stopping by tomorrow, to discuss the deal I’d been working on with his predecessor.”

Jerry’s response was cut off by Pan’s thumb against the glass screen of his phone as he rolled his head back, groaning at the stupidity of mortals. He was trying to save them, couldn’t they see that? In the world of business however, good intentions were few and far between. How much easier this would be if they understood a currency other than money.

A text from Mars sent vibrations coursing through his phone and up his forearm. The message brought a smile to his face, lifting the burden of anger from his shoulders. He took a picture of his suit and sent it along with a message to tease his god of war.

To: Sir
Does this answer your question?


The weeks following the Conclave had found him starting most mornings in Mars’ arms, basking in the memories of the previous night. He didn’t know what to call their dalliances, their sudden entanglement, but he knew he didn’t want it to end. Where it might lead was known only to the Fates, but wasn’t that half the fun?

The thought of Mars was the only thing keeping him from telling the driver to change course and head for home. Well, Mars, and the distinct possibility that this night would go up in flames sooner, rather than later. If the guest list was to be believed, he wouldn’t be surprised if the night ended with a dead mortal and an investigation on behalf of the SPD. He couldn’t miss that, now could he?

As his limo approached the venue, the quiet he’d grown accustomed to faded, replaced by the slamming of car doors and the shouts of reporters. As his ride slowed to a halt in front of the entrance, Peter Oakley stepped out, smiling for the cameras. Modern architecture loomed above him, a ghastly beast of concrete and glass. Disgusting. Did the mortals realize they were dancing on a grave tonight?

“Mr. Oakley! Could you give a statement on your company’s new relationship with Triarri Corp? Do you think their history with fossil fuels weakens your company’s core values?” A reporter called out, notepad in hand.

Ever the charmer, Pan’s smile never faltered, even as his blood boiled. What did this mewling child know about his core values, about what he had done for the earth? He had spilled blood for these forests, gone to war for the plains. What had this boy done? Bought reusable grocery bags?

“If we seek to bring about the future, we’ll need all the help we can get. My partnership with Mr. Salvius is built on the foundation of transitioning Triarri Corp into a future that is powered by green energy. If anything, I think this move is representative of our core values. We don’t want to push out the companies that have helped build this world, but to change them, bring them into the new world. Hopefully Seattle is just as welcoming to that sentiment.” Pan punctuated his brief monologue with a curt nod, offering the cameras a few more angles before breaking for the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he was away from the vultures that circled outside. He spotted Venus and Cupid, engaged in conversation. From the shadows came Timor, wreathed in fear and loathing, followed shortly thereafter by one of Artemis’ Maidens, and then, the Sun and Moon themselves. Interesting. Artemis was bold to bring her spies out tonight, but he couldn’t say he was terribly surprised, or unhappy. Any info she gathered could be made of use to him, one way or another.

After a moment’s searching, he found Mars, standing next to Jupiter and looking down over the party. He had half a mind to interrupt whatever words they were sharing, but he kept himself restrained. There’d be time for his Roman tonight. Wearing a smile that only hinted at the devilish creature that lay beneath his youthful features, Pan grabbed a drink, and waited for the other shoe to drop.


mentions: Mars, via text @Gothelk



THE BALL


The garden behind the venue was well lit, and still devoid of most mortals. As the sun’s rays faded from view, Artemis gazed down at the city, from her vantage point behind a sculpted stone railing, and sighed. She had toiled after this wretched rock for centuries, and still, she was hardly any closer than when she’d begun. Could she truly be called the Mistress of the Hunt? Perhaps not…

The sun had set just moments ago, and already, it rose behind her, a singsong greeting piercing her thoughts. “You knoooow, if you missed me that much, you could’ve just come for a visit? You know where I live.”

Artemis turned and rolled her eyes, placing a pale hand against the fine fabric of his tux and shoving him back. “Personal space, Pollo,” she said, earning a chuckle from her twin. Despite her obvious annoyance, a smirk tugged at the corner of the huntress’ mouth. However much he vexed her, Apollo was one of the few people in this world that understood her, loathe as she might be to admit it. He didn’t need the ego boost.

Apollo, grinning, took a spot next to his sister, leaning against the railing. “Not quite so good as the ones I used to make, just saying.” This time, Artemis laughed. It was usually like this with them. If anyone could chisel away the stone that Artemis lived within, it was Pollo. “How are you Arty? No bullshit, please and thank you.”

Artemis sighed, looking everywhere until she was forced to meet Apollo’s eyes. “How do you think I am, oh great Oracle?” Her brother was many things, but he was not her keeper. If he’d guessed her thoughts, she’d have no choice but to go along with it, but she would not offer him her plans so willingly, as much as she wished she could. If Apollo ever found out what she truly wanted with the Colossus, he would place that chisel through her heart, of this she was certain.

“Low blow,” Apollo said, miming a wound to his heart with all the melodrama befitting a god of the arts. Artemis’ scoff was all the applause he required, and he quickly regained his composure, nudging his sister playfully. “I think, you’re tearing yourself up trying to find out who killed Hephaestus, because you can’t stand not having all the answers. Am I right?”

“It’s more than that Pollo, and you reducing it to something so trivial is foolish,” Arty replied, her mood quickly shifting. “Someone has a god killer, don’t you see why that might be something we should try and control? Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”

“Why do you think I want you to drop it!” Apollo hissed. Artemis might’ve seen the two as being on opposing sides, but Apollo never seemed to. Selfish as he could be, he wanted his sister safe. “You’re not invincible. Is it so hard to believe that I don’t want you to get hurt. Let Ares deal with this, you don’t need to be involved.”

“Oh, yes, because Ares ending up with a god killer is so much better!” Artemis threw her hands up in exasperation, a laugh brought on by the derangement of anger breaking through her lips.

Apollo’s retort was cut off by a muffled shout behind them, followed by the doors they’d come through shuddering. Concern replaced anger on both of their faces, and the two shared a look that said, ‘I’m not done, but this is much more troubling.’ In unison, the two tore open the doors, and Timor and Thalia came tumbling outside, Timor falling on top of the Maiden, hands clutching her wrists.

“Who sent you?” Timor hissed, only to be met by a swift kick to the side from Artemis.

“Get off of her, Dog. She’s mine,” Artemis said. Her words were thick with authority, a mother bear who’d caught a predator trying to make a meal out of her cubs. Timor grunted, growled, and stood to face her. He managed to take a step forward before Apollo spun him around.

“Hey, Sweeney Todd, this is not the place. Why don’t you go tell your daddy we say hello, okay?” Apollo said, smarmy as ever. Timor clenched and unclenched his fists, steely gaze boring into Apollo, surely imagining all the terrible things Metus would do to him if he asked. With a chilling grace, he brushed off his suit, and removed Apollo’s hands from his shoulders, before walking inside, gone like he’d never even been there. A shadow in the night
.
“Which one was that? Fear or Terror?” Apollo said, eyes trained on the doorway. The scene might be new, but this situation wasn’t all that strange. The twins had been quite the team in a fight. Having each other's backs was second nature.

“Fear. Timor. Mars and Venus’, and apparently he’s the nicer one.” Artemis said as she helped Thalia to her feet.

“Fucking Romans.”

Artemis focused now, on the girl in front of her. She was shaking, ever so slightly, but when Artemis brought a hand to her shoulder, Thalia pushed it away. “I’m fine, my lady. I can go back inside, if you want.”

“No. Go back to the car, Thalia. You’re done for the night.” Sympathy had left Artemis. She had a whole night left to get through, and Timor had already exposed one of her little birds. She didn’t have time to waste on Thalia’s ego.

“But-”

“Go. Now.”

Thalia didn’t hazard another word, and instead turned on her heel, slipping back into the ballroom, and presumably, back out to the limo in which she’d arrived. Once she was gone, Apollo turned to face Artemis, grinning despite the recent tension. “Gods, that was exciting! We never get to do fun shit like that anymore.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. If she kept speaking with Apollo, she was liable to lose them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That was a fucking mess.” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, pacing back and forth. “If I’d known that Mars would’ve brought his hounds I’d have left the girls at home.”

“Oh look on the bright side, Arty. I think I agree with you now.”

Artemis chuckled at that. “I’m not surprised. You usually get there, eventually.”

It was Apollo’s turn to roll his eyes. “And they say I’m arrogant.”


TIMOR
DOWNTOWN → THE PAD → THE BALL
pensive, intrigued, calculating


In Seattle, once the sun went down, fear ran through the streets like rain through a gutter. Everywhere Timor walked, the smell enveloped him, invigorated him. Every breath he took brought the taste of it to his tongue. A woman across the street was unnerved by his smile, and a man in the nearby park was beginning to worry about what the gathering clouds might do to his tent. A child in an apartment he passed was watching a scary movie past his bedtime, and a young woman passing through an alley was clutching her keys between her knuckles, jumping at every shadow.

He shouldn’t be here, roaming the city, but he couldn’t help himself. A night surrounded by gods and rich, prattling mortals would not quench his thirst. The wealthy had fears, but none quite so sweet as those who’d been swept under society’s rug. And the gods? Well, fear ran off them the same as anyone else, perhaps better than some mortals. The deepest darkest secret of any god, is that they’re just as afraid as mortals. Timor’s hatred of the other pantheons stemmed less from a distaste for watching them squirm, and more so from a lack of patience for those divine beings who’d stood against Rome. Some were simply less worthy than others.

The apartment he shared with Metus was on the edge of the nicer parts of Seattle, where the haves were forced to look at the have-nots who’d been sacrificed in their scramble to the top. It was a nice place, surrounded by neighbors who’d describe the Salvius brothers as ‘good people’ and ‘hardworking boys.’ Timor let himself into a dark living room, and was greeted by a bolt of fur and a sudden series of loud, deep, barks.

“Crowley, sit.” Timor said, his voice monotone, yet commanding. In the dark, he could see the shape of a pit bull, face marked by a few old scars, plop down, tongue lolling out to say hello. He crouched down, bringing a hand up to pet Crowley, smiling softly as the dog lunged towards him in greeting.

After a moment with Crowley, Timor rose, and strode confidently through the darkened room to his own bedroom. Calloused fingers found purchase on a lightswitch and suddenly, the room was bathed in scarlet light, casting long shadows across the floor. Vintage horror movie posters covered the walls, and a desk across from his bed was cluttered with books, paperback spines intermixed with leather bound tomes. The tone of the room might’ve been off putting to most, but to Timor, it was comforting. The select few mortals who managed to find their way home with him often found it intriguing, though if they were spending the night with Timor, they were likely already intrigued by all that was strange and taboo.

His suit was hanging behind the door, freshly pressed this morning for the occasion. He might not have been looking forward to the event, but he’d been requested and that meant he’d be prepared. Crowley sat quietly on his bed while he changed and looked himself over in the mirror. He was gone as quickly as he’d come, a shadow in the night.

Flashy as his car might’ve been, Timor pulled out of his parking lot and onto the street with restraint. Power didn’t tempt him like it did others. The engine purred as he drove down the street, winding through the streets of Seattle. When he finally arrived at the venue, he parked his own car, and slipped in through the service entrance. Cameras held no allure for the god of fear, and he preferred to enter with a bit less conspicuity.

Italian leather slapped against white linoleum as Timor found his way to the ballroom, eyes quickly scanning for his fellow deities. He saw Baldr, watching the entrance, and Athena joining the fray. His mother stood off to the side, whispering in the ear of Greece’s huntress. He watched as they tried to hide their intimacy, but it was clear to see the dance they were doing. Mother, what are you doing?

Timor kept still though. Any judgements he had were not for him to speak. His mother knew what she was doing, even if he did not. Standing still, Timor found it easy to fade from view. Most mortals simply would prefer not to see him, and when he stood against the wall it was all too easy to overlook the pale, dark haired Salvius boy. On his right, two girls stood, dressed in white gowns, beautiful. They whispered before breaking apart, heading for opposite sides of the room. The same fear wafted off of them, ripe and bursting with flavor. Fear of discovery.

Strange. Like a cat, he moved from the wall, following one of the girls at a distance. Who had come along tonight? Spies in the ballroom? He couldn’t tail the both of them, but he could at least follow one. Every move she made tonight, the sentinel in the shadows would be watching. Nam bonum Roma

Victory And The Moon

The Ball
an @smarty0114 and @Icy Hot collab


“Ears open tonight ladies. We’re in the lion’s den now.” Artemis’ eyes never left the moon that hung high in the sky, her nose pressed to the cold glass of her limousine’s window. Despite her perceived lack of attention, Thalia and Zoe knew that Artemis was always watching, and they nodded with an almost religious fervor. “Pay special attention to the Romans, but if anyone seems off, check them out. I don’t want any surprises tonight.” The limousine slowed to a halt a moment later, and Artemis stepped out, cameras flashing to capture her gown.

Zoe and Thalia trailed behind her, assistants to the mortal eye, but once the cameras were gone, Selena O’Ryan disappeared once more, just another face the moon loved to show. A flick of the wrist sent her girls floating off into the ballroom, looking for a morsel that might sate her hunger for knowledge. Artemis’ attention was not with them though, but with a woman, beauty personified. Pale grey eyes traced her body, cloaked in elegance, and she couldn’t help but remember the treasures that hid beneath the cloth. She smiled softly, and crossed the room, snagging two glasses of champagne on the way.

She halted herself with an inhuman grace, her dress whirling around her at the sudden end of motion, her body a tornado of color for just a moment as she crept up behind Venus, bringing her lips close to her ear so that whatever words she spoke were theirs, and theirs alone. “I brought you a drink.”

Venus turned slowly, face alight with warmth and a twinkling of desire in those honey eyes that drank in the gorgeous goddess standing before her. The conversation she had been having with some “hot shot” mortal was long forgotten once she turned around, and the sound of a huff and heavy feet moving onwards made her chuckle, “Just what I needed, and the drink is a plus.” Venus’s voice was almost a whisper, the proximity of their bodies didn’t require a volume greater than that. The live classical music filling the room was a background meant to set the atmosphere but not demand the attention of the guests.

Venus claimed her drink gracefully and stole a quick peck from her dearest friend before she allowed space to fill them with a showy spin, the satin finished fabric twirling after her in a small sea of emerald green. The Emerald Dress had garner just the attention she was looking for as she entered the venue, paparazzi and reporters asking about her coming winter lines and asking for confirmations on various pieces of gossip buzzing around.

“Did you just arrive? I figured I’d be strutting into a room full of gods, and yet you are the first I’ve seen, the great and terrible host included.”

Since their first meeting years ago, Artemis had always thought that Venus wore the spotlight better. Her spin only cemented that theory in her head as Artemis watched the Victorious One twirl in elegant circles. There was a magnetism to Venus, a pull over others that impressed the moon goddess. She was incomparable, a beauty that knew no equal.

“Just a moment ago. If my brother’s coming tonight, I’m sure the rest of my family won’t be far off,” Artemis said, glancing at the entrance at the mention of Apollo. “Augustus is certainly in for an eventful evening,” Arty continued, a smirk spreading across her face as she looked back at Venus. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Everything going on… it’s been busy.” She didn’t need to utter Hephaestus’ name to get her point across. His death had hung over the entire city in the past weeks, though the mortals still seemed to be hoping for their mayor’s heroic return.

Venus waved off the apology with an understanding grace, “I am not so insecure to demand your attention at every passing moment- not that I would protest such an arrangement.” A small laugh passed through her lips as she took a sip of her champagne, “but I understand, the news came as a shock to us all. I just hope you have been tending to yourself in light of all the things you’ve got going on.” There is only room for sincerity in her tone as a gentle hand grasps Artemis’. Venus felt nothing at the news of Hephaestus’ death, and felt nothing for the Greeks in general but she had found herself worrying over Artemis and how such a fate would affect her.

Despite her curiosities Venus withholds the questions she wants to ask, at least for the time being. Instead of searching for answers and prodding for information she settles on something more easily digested, “The guest list for this event is quite peculiar, I’d be interested in learning who threw this whole soiree together… and on such a short notice at that. All the gods, even some who we all believed were long gone, and only the most affluent of humans, I’m excited to see what comes of the night.”

Venus' words clued Artemis in to something peculiar; Jupiter was only playing the role of host. She could only guess as to what that meant, and she was anything but hasty. She tucked the thought away for later, and returned her attention to the only person in the room that could deserve it. “We haven’t had a good show in a while. I’m sure tonight will change that.”

The huntress took a sip of champagne, her eyes never leaving the woman before her. Venus was different from all the others. Dynamic and exciting and brilliant, she was the Mother of Rome, the woman who birthed a nation that had changed the world. She wasn’t prey to be hunted, but a fellow predator, to be respected, and admired. She was well aware of how complicated this would become, especially now that she’d placed so much trust in Poseidon’s will. Their families would likely be at each other’s throats before the night was through, and they’d yet to find Hephaestus’ body. If she was right, and they discovered that the Romans had been involved with his death, chaos was sure to ensue.

“You should come by, after all of this. Spend the night,” Arty said. The smile that followed was not so different from her brother’s radiant grin. Whatever chaos rained down on Seattle, she was certain her and Venus would slip their way through, somehow, someway.

Venus raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, letting her desire for such a thing to remain tempered behind a pleasant smile. The goddess of Love was not without her enjoyment of a bit of coyness, “Mm that is a thought..” she mused in a purr like drawl, the magnetism of her words drawing her own body closer to Artemis’ again, “I would quite like that.” her words drew on as she leaned into Artemis her own lips ghosting against her ear as she whispered conspiratorial words dipped in sultry honey, “Let us hope the secrets of our families coming to light don’t have us parting like the sea and sky have…” she pulled back slowly the light of a chandelier twinkling in her eyes, “or at least tonight not be the event for that. I’d much rather fall asleep to the sounds of our pleasure echoing in my mind than that of angered men and mothers.” Venus brought her flute to her lips and space found real estate between them again as her attention diverted from Artemis for a moment to cast around the room taking note of the gods and goddesses that had entered, especially of a man standing alone dressed in green. Oh fate, how sweet you are.

Her cheeks flushed red, a sight reserved for Venus. No one else could set her mind racing and her heart aflame. No one else could uncoil the knot she’d wound herself into. Artemis was a being of complexity, and no simple creature would satisfy her. So many words hung in her throat, begging to be released. If they were alone she would assure Venus that no one would come between them, not if the huntress could help it. She’d hold her close and remind her that the echoings of their pleasure need not cease. How cruel it was that they were born worlds apart, forced to cross so many lines to be together. Cruel as it may be, she’d cross every line if it led to Venus. Her hand, still pressed between Venus’ slender fingers, squeezed, firm and soft all at once. A grasp that said, ‘I’m never letting go.’ “I’ll do my best to make you forget any mishaps,” Arty said, smirking. “Fair warning, if you’re hoping for a private conversation, stay away from the girls in white.” Artemis nodded over at Thalia and Zoe, but made no other expressions. Alerting Venus to her spies was foolish, risky, a lover’s mistake. Perhaps she was in love then. Or just a fool.

Venus couldn’t help the giggle that fell from her lips as Artemis made her aware of her spies, it was a sound purely of amusement and her tone when she spoke was filled with admiration, “How I could expect anything less from you is a fault of my own. I hope your family only shows their appreciation for you, you infinitely beautiful and brilliant woman.” Venus returns the squeeze, an echo of the sentiment Arty sent her first, but perhaps not as firm, or unwavering, or reliable as what shines in the radiance of the goddess holding onto her. Venus would much rather spend her night ignoring all else conspiring and gossiping with Artemis, but duty rings its bell as more people and gods arrive, she has celebrities and politicians to dress and gods to question.

“I’ll be finding you again later tonight, try not to be too rough on anyone.” Venus’ parting kiss was gentle but long enough to leave her desired effect before she completely pulled away and lost herself in the crowd with the Governor and her Husband in her line of sight.

Artemis bit her lip as Venus disappeared into the crowd, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. She knew why they had called her Venus the Victorious now. Even against the cold stone that she had erected, the Roman found a way. If Greece fell once more, would it matter, if Venus was by her side? That kiss made her think it would not.
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