AlteredTundra
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How aboutttttt... the World Baseball Classic next month tho ⚾🙌❤️🔥
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Ask no questions and you'll get no lies.
Turn the cheek and blind the eye...
Let it go.
Bend the knee and give away your life.
Bite your tongue and close your mind...
Never know.
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Fiamma Catriona Giannulli | Molly Quinn | BE5667 | Liberty bish
Stephanie Elizabeth Cross | Maggie Lindemann | C71585 | Rosefell
Fiamma Catriona Giannulli | Molly Quinn | BE5667 | Liberty bish
Stephanie Elizabeth Cross | Maggie Lindemann | C71585 | Rosefell
Interest rescinding. My apologies.
As soon as the invitation to Jupiter’s charity gala had arrived to Marcela’s inbox, it had been sent straight to the Trash folder of her personal email account. After thousands of years avoiding her fellow deities, she continued to have no desire to become a prominent figure of the circle of gods and goddesses that lived and thrived under the mortal’s noses. But when her boss had made her assistance mandatory for security purposes, Marcela had no other choice than to swallow her pride, put on her best face and show up to the event.
The first order of business had been to discreetly inspect the surroundings of the venue, identify potential threats, pinpoint any vantage points and locate all escape routes. After making sure everything was in order, Marcy gave the all-clear for her boss to enter the ballroom, and hung around the powerful Asian woman until she was dismissed. Now somewhat free to do as she pleased, Marcela made a beeline straight for the bar to grab her signature mezcal martini before retreating to the significantly less crowded second floor.
From her new position on the top floor, the goddess of the underworld had a clear view of the arrivals and departures to the lavish event. Martini in hand, Marcy watched as a plethora of strangers made their way across the doors, with the sprinkle of a familiar face every once in a while. She had started out as a ball of nerves underneath the steely façade she was projecting, refusing to take her eyes from the entrance in fear that she would be caught off guard and miss the arrival of the one person she wanted to avoid the most. But the more time passed without spotting the handsome face of the Aztec god she’d been entangled with in her past lifetime, the less tense Marcy found herself being. She’d been about to depart her post to get a refill of her drink when something curious caught her eye.
The Greek goddess of divine justice had made her arrival, but she had done so on her lonesome and looking particularly distraught over something. Soon after, the Norse god of thunder had followed suit, looking as equally unhappy as the woman Marcy knew he was involved with. Frowning, the Aztec goddess descended the stairs, grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and approached the man she hadn’t spoken to since that fateful weekend in the early nineteenth century.
"You certainly look like you could use this…" Marcela drawled, offering the champagne glass in her hand to Thor.
“What a mind-reader you are.”
Having immediately drunk two glasses already, Thor proudly welcomed the offer his old friend presented him with and he did so with his usual mix of a grunt-laugh smirk that she might remember from all of those years ago. As he took a small sip from the glass, partially buzzed, his reaction to her dress was a bit more vocal than how he might usually carry himself, which was to say the dress itself complimented her well and he did his best to make his approval of it come out in a tasteful manner.
“Mictecawhoti--” Thor was cursing himself. For as fond of her as he was (save for maybe the feathered serpent and a few others in that pantheon) he never could pronounce her name correctly. If the fate of Asgard depended on it, Ragnarok would have killed them all by now. "--sorry, I guess I still can’t get your name right.” He expelled an embarrassed chuckle, taking a much needed sip from his glass.
When she heard Thor’s terrible attempt at pronouncing her name, the Aztec goddess couldn’t help but break out of her usual haughty facade and burst into a fit of laughter. “We bonded for a magical three days and two nights, and you still can’t pronounce my name? Come on, tlatlatziniliztli. You’ve had over two hundred years to practice it!” she teased him, lightly elbowing his ribs.
Thor grunted when he felt her elbow dig into his midsection. She may look fragile but even a joking action was well-placed. “And if I was given another two centuries, I won’t be any closer than I am now.” He took another quick sip from the glass in his hand. “But funny you mention that weekend. As I recall, your name wasn’t what I remember being shouted to the heavens,” Thor teased, smirking.
There was no hiding the way Marcy’s lips curled up into a smug, knowing smirk at his words, even after she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek to disguise it. With how easily they had fallen into their usual flirtatious banter, it had probably been in everyone’s best interests that she and Thor hadn’t kept in contact throughout the years. Anyone with a pair of eyes would be able to see the chemistry between them. But as much as she wanted to one-up him with some highly suggestive comment that alluded to their time together, the brunette settled for elbowing him in the ribs again and changing the subject. Thor was a taken man, and wrecking homes was certainly not her domain. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve... rebranded, so to speak. I go by Marcela now-- or Marcy, for short. There’s no way you can mess that one up, Thunder.”
“Thank the Aesir!” Came Thor’s immediate response, but then he coughed. “I mean, I am sure for most, it is easily spoken without much difficulty. But for me personally, it warms my heart to know I won’t have to sound like a blubbering Jotun trying to recite some ancient text, Miccy.” On some level, he felt guilty for bringing that name back up, but Thor never wasted an opening when he saw one.
Thor didn’t have to wait long for Marcy’s response. As if the instant cringe wasn’t enough, the colorful words that follow would definitely leave no room for assumptions. “Kindly go fuck yourself,” she muttered sweetly, flipping him off while shooting him a sarcastic smile. It was all in good fun, of course-- as evidenced by the way she later rolled her eyes and shook her head at him but sported an amused smirk. “I still groan out loud whenever that Hey Mickey song comes up on the radio thanks to your unoriginal nickname. The eighties were a real nightmare.”
Thor started to hum the tune until it couldn’t be contained. “So come on and give it to me anyway you can! Anyway you wanna do it, I’ll take it like a maaaaaan. Oh please, baby pleeease, don’t leave in the damp, Mickey--”
Marcela let out a loud snort of laughter, followed by a snicker. “I swear, Thor Odinson: if you don’t stop singing that song right now, I’ll have to use the gun I’m hiding somewhere inside this dress to make you stop…” she growled at him, while the corners of her mouth were still turned upwards. “And I don’t think your Lady Justice will like that very much.”
Thor had been blankly staring at her the instant she said she had a gun. Everything else that came after was white noise. “Sorry, I know I’m an old man, but did you say you have a gun?” Thor asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet as he could as to not alert the many civilians and agents of law enforcement sure to be nearby.
"I most certainly did, yes," Marcy answered with a small shrug, taking a long sip from her champagne glass. "It comes with the territory of my line of work. Occupational hazards, you know? Always better to be safe than sorry."
“I get that,” Thor commented, mirroring Marcy’s actions.
It wasn’t as though Thor didn’t understand. In the years they had gone without speaking, despite not actually maintaining personal contact, Thor had heard whispers here and there. In his line of work -- both professional and extracurricular -- he heard stories of Marcy and what she did. When he first heard she was a hitwoman, Thor wasn’t exactly sure what to think. He knew what her domain was and more so, what that often implied, so it wasn’t as though her following down that path was unexpected. He often told himself that the ones she took out were criminals and that meant she wasn’t ruthlessly killing innocents, only those who deserved to have justice be rained down on them.
But bringing a gun here was a questionable decision, though it wasn’t one he wasn’t a stranger to. If he could bring Mjolnir with him everywhere he went without raising suspicions, he would. “Does your line of work make you happy?” Thor asked, breaking the temporary silence that befell their air of conversation. “I mean, is it fulfilling enough to make you want to keep doing it?”
Thor posed a very important question-- one that Marcela had a rather pessimistic answer for. There was a reason why the death goddess never stopped to think about the life path she had chosen for herself after the culmination of her self-imposed exile. “I haven’t been happy in centuries, Thor,” she confessed with a dry laugh, downing the rest of her champagne and setting the glass on a passing waiter’s tray before turning to face him. “But we all have to do what we can to stay afloat and live on, right? To say that doing what I do makes me happy would be a lie, and that’s not something you and I have ever done to each other. I can say, though, that this profession keeps me occupied enough to keep my mind from traveling down the same old dark paths of grief and sadness. And since Mictlāntēcutli’s departure all I have left on this Earth is myself. If I don’t put myself first, who will?”
There was some level of mutual understanding Thor was experiencing right now. Yes, on some level, though a few centuries before, Thor was of that same mindset: mindlessly distracting himself with whatever he could. The sound of his enemy’s skull being crushed by his manmade hammer, the feeling of taking another’s life in the name of justice. Thor, when Marcy spoke, heard himself many years ago, but it wasn’t until Themis did he see the light. He knew if he ever said that, it would come off as corny as hell, yet it was that simple. “What about Xolotl?” Thor asked point-blank. “He would most certainly put you above everyone else, would he not?”
Well that was a name Marcela didn’t think she’d be hearing so soon, let alone from Thor, of all people. It was clear from the way she sucked in all of the oxygen in their immediate surroundings before exhaling a long, deep breath. How Thor managed to remember this part of their conversations but not the correct way to pronounce her way was beyond her. “I don’t need Xolotl. I can take care of myself,” she said forcefully-- albeit a little too aggressively for her liking, so she hurriedly tried to make amends. “I’m sorry,” she told the Norse god with an apologetic little shrug. “It’s just… I already lost one man I loved. The last thing I want is to experience that excruciating pain for a second time.”
Thor frowned at the pessimism in her voice. He knew how much she loved Mict and, maybe because he never experienced loss quite like that, he couldn’t possibly understand the grief she endured. Still, he saw something in her eyes. “You might be able to fool everyone else, and maybe you have convinced yourself that’s the truth. But take it from someone who has found his soulmate: I know what someone’s eyes look like when they find someone special.” Thor allowed himself to pause and smile at his old friend. “And Marcy, you have that in spades.”
Discussing whatever feelings she had for Xolotl was not something the Aztec goddess wanted to indulge in-- especially not tonight, when the odds of them coming face to face with each other increased with every second she spent at this godforsaken gala. Her walls and defenses had to be at an all-time high, and a conversation like this could leave her open and vulnerable to any potential, unavoidable interactions in the near-future. So instead of offering the man a list of reasons why it didn’t matter what she did or didn’t feel for the Aztec god of lighting and fire, she chose to deflect his question from herself and onto him instead. “So you’re saying you found your soulmate? Because it sounds to me like you just said you found your soulmate,” Marcy questioned Thor with a teasing smirk.
He couldn’t help but curse at himself. At the same time, he shrugged, doing nothing to hide the truth from her. “I have,” he admitted simply. “Themis is my one and only.” Though his words were short, he spoke with pride as he always did about those important to him.
Thor was serious about this one. It was obvious by the pride in his voice, the gleam in his eyes, and the smile on his lips. Although she would never admit it, it warmed her heart to know that after centuries of losing lovers and offspring, Thor had finally found the person he was destined to have by his side.
But then she remembered how upset they both looked when arriving at the ball, and it made her wonder whether the couple was having any problems. The last thing she wanted was to see her dearest friend give his all to a woman and then get hurt, so she decided to see if there was any way she could be of assistance to him. “Forgive my intrusion, Thor, but is everything okay between you two? I couldn’t help but notice there was a frown on Themis’ face when she walked in, and that you seemed kind of distraught when I first approached you.”
Marcy’s firm reminder struck a chord with Thor and not in a negative way. He knew she was right (as she always was). But knowing how he left things off with Themis and how she stormed off, even if he were to fix things for the reasons that Marcy had stated, there was something he knew for a fact. “If only it were that simple.” Thor looked around him, making sure no mortal ears were listening to what they shouldn’t. Satisfied that there wasn’t, he continued and moved a foot closer to Marcy. “There’s something about my life and what I do -- something I haven’t divulged to Themis yet -- and she found out. And, of course, she confronted me about it during the ride here.” He chuckled at how clever that was. Just one of the many reasons why he loved her.
“And let me guess: instead of being honest, you lied to her. So she had to excuse herself before she added to that neat little bruise collection you have going on all over your face,” Marcy prompted with a questioning eyebrow.
“What?” His response was immediate. “No, she’s not responsible for my shiners. Themis is all about appearances, which is probably why she got so worried -- in her own way, mind you -- about my bruises. No, these were the result of an unforeseen consequence during a confrontation I encountered yesterday,” he admitted.
Marcela rolled her eyes and shook her head. She had forgotten how slow on the catch up Thor could be sometimes. “I wasn’t saying Themis was the one who hit you, tlatlatziniliztli. I was saying she probably wanted to hit you for lying to her,” she explained as if talking to a child. “But anyway, what’s your plan now? She clearly knows your secret already, and lying to her blew up on your face. If I may, allow me to offer you some advice, darling. If you love Lady Justice as much as you say you do, then go after her and fix your mess. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out things aren’t well between the two of you at the moment, and that can be dangerous in a place like this: full of gods and goddesses whose intentions you never quite know for certain. You never know who’s lurking around the corner waiting for their chance to use this against you and in their favor.”
That was a sentiment Thor could agree with. He knew he didn’t have a lot of friends among the pantheons. It’s not like Thor ever cared for their opinions. The only person whose opinion was worth giving a damn -- aside from Marcy, of course -- was Themis. If he had any hope of walking out of here with her no longer wanting to tear his head off, he had to swallow whatever worse-case scenario he had in his head and talk to her. “I guess I have a soulmate to find,” he joked, laughing as he set the now empty glass on a tray a passing waiter was holding. Thor gave Marcy a light hug. “Don’t be a stranger. We should definitely have tea or get a drink sometime. Maybe even have a double date.”
“Oh, absolutely! Me and my revolver would be delighted to be yours and Lady Justice’s dinner dates sometime!” she answered sarcastically before letting out a laugh. “But seriously, though, just let me know the date, time and place a few days in advance and I’ll be there. I would love to meet the woman who built up a good man into something even better.”
If Thor wasn’t the humble God that he was, he might have replied with a cheesy line about how you couldn’t improve perfection but he wasn’t conceited like the Allfather was. Given that he was the embodiment of honor and all that, he smirked with a chuckle. “You got it, Miccy!”
Before she could do more than laugh and flip him off again, Thor had disappeared into the crowd, going more towards the center of the venue. He took in his surroundings, keeping an eye out for a few people. His father, some of the other members of his pantheon, but on the top of his list was Themis. She was the top priority. If nothing else, he had to make sure they were back on solid ground before that double date could be scheduled.
“Now if I were a Titan Goddess of Justice, where would I be hiding?”
The first order of business had been to discreetly inspect the surroundings of the venue, identify potential threats, pinpoint any vantage points and locate all escape routes. After making sure everything was in order, Marcy gave the all-clear for her boss to enter the ballroom, and hung around the powerful Asian woman until she was dismissed. Now somewhat free to do as she pleased, Marcela made a beeline straight for the bar to grab her signature mezcal martini before retreating to the significantly less crowded second floor.
From her new position on the top floor, the goddess of the underworld had a clear view of the arrivals and departures to the lavish event. Martini in hand, Marcy watched as a plethora of strangers made their way across the doors, with the sprinkle of a familiar face every once in a while. She had started out as a ball of nerves underneath the steely façade she was projecting, refusing to take her eyes from the entrance in fear that she would be caught off guard and miss the arrival of the one person she wanted to avoid the most. But the more time passed without spotting the handsome face of the Aztec god she’d been entangled with in her past lifetime, the less tense Marcy found herself being. She’d been about to depart her post to get a refill of her drink when something curious caught her eye.
The Greek goddess of divine justice had made her arrival, but she had done so on her lonesome and looking particularly distraught over something. Soon after, the Norse god of thunder had followed suit, looking as equally unhappy as the woman Marcy knew he was involved with. Frowning, the Aztec goddess descended the stairs, grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and approached the man she hadn’t spoken to since that fateful weekend in the early nineteenth century.
"You certainly look like you could use this…" Marcela drawled, offering the champagne glass in her hand to Thor.
“What a mind-reader you are.”
Having immediately drunk two glasses already, Thor proudly welcomed the offer his old friend presented him with and he did so with his usual mix of a grunt-laugh smirk that she might remember from all of those years ago. As he took a small sip from the glass, partially buzzed, his reaction to her dress was a bit more vocal than how he might usually carry himself, which was to say the dress itself complimented her well and he did his best to make his approval of it come out in a tasteful manner.
“Mictecawhoti--” Thor was cursing himself. For as fond of her as he was (save for maybe the feathered serpent and a few others in that pantheon) he never could pronounce her name correctly. If the fate of Asgard depended on it, Ragnarok would have killed them all by now. "--sorry, I guess I still can’t get your name right.” He expelled an embarrassed chuckle, taking a much needed sip from his glass.
When she heard Thor’s terrible attempt at pronouncing her name, the Aztec goddess couldn’t help but break out of her usual haughty facade and burst into a fit of laughter. “We bonded for a magical three days and two nights, and you still can’t pronounce my name? Come on, tlatlatziniliztli. You’ve had over two hundred years to practice it!” she teased him, lightly elbowing his ribs.
Thor grunted when he felt her elbow dig into his midsection. She may look fragile but even a joking action was well-placed. “And if I was given another two centuries, I won’t be any closer than I am now.” He took another quick sip from the glass in his hand. “But funny you mention that weekend. As I recall, your name wasn’t what I remember being shouted to the heavens,” Thor teased, smirking.
There was no hiding the way Marcy’s lips curled up into a smug, knowing smirk at his words, even after she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek to disguise it. With how easily they had fallen into their usual flirtatious banter, it had probably been in everyone’s best interests that she and Thor hadn’t kept in contact throughout the years. Anyone with a pair of eyes would be able to see the chemistry between them. But as much as she wanted to one-up him with some highly suggestive comment that alluded to their time together, the brunette settled for elbowing him in the ribs again and changing the subject. Thor was a taken man, and wrecking homes was certainly not her domain. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve... rebranded, so to speak. I go by Marcela now-- or Marcy, for short. There’s no way you can mess that one up, Thunder.”
“Thank the Aesir!” Came Thor’s immediate response, but then he coughed. “I mean, I am sure for most, it is easily spoken without much difficulty. But for me personally, it warms my heart to know I won’t have to sound like a blubbering Jotun trying to recite some ancient text, Miccy.” On some level, he felt guilty for bringing that name back up, but Thor never wasted an opening when he saw one.
Thor didn’t have to wait long for Marcy’s response. As if the instant cringe wasn’t enough, the colorful words that follow would definitely leave no room for assumptions. “Kindly go fuck yourself,” she muttered sweetly, flipping him off while shooting him a sarcastic smile. It was all in good fun, of course-- as evidenced by the way she later rolled her eyes and shook her head at him but sported an amused smirk. “I still groan out loud whenever that Hey Mickey song comes up on the radio thanks to your unoriginal nickname. The eighties were a real nightmare.”
Thor started to hum the tune until it couldn’t be contained. “So come on and give it to me anyway you can! Anyway you wanna do it, I’ll take it like a maaaaaan. Oh please, baby pleeease, don’t leave in the damp, Mickey--”
Marcela let out a loud snort of laughter, followed by a snicker. “I swear, Thor Odinson: if you don’t stop singing that song right now, I’ll have to use the gun I’m hiding somewhere inside this dress to make you stop…” she growled at him, while the corners of her mouth were still turned upwards. “And I don’t think your Lady Justice will like that very much.”
Thor had been blankly staring at her the instant she said she had a gun. Everything else that came after was white noise. “Sorry, I know I’m an old man, but did you say you have a gun?” Thor asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet as he could as to not alert the many civilians and agents of law enforcement sure to be nearby.
"I most certainly did, yes," Marcy answered with a small shrug, taking a long sip from her champagne glass. "It comes with the territory of my line of work. Occupational hazards, you know? Always better to be safe than sorry."
“I get that,” Thor commented, mirroring Marcy’s actions.
It wasn’t as though Thor didn’t understand. In the years they had gone without speaking, despite not actually maintaining personal contact, Thor had heard whispers here and there. In his line of work -- both professional and extracurricular -- he heard stories of Marcy and what she did. When he first heard she was a hitwoman, Thor wasn’t exactly sure what to think. He knew what her domain was and more so, what that often implied, so it wasn’t as though her following down that path was unexpected. He often told himself that the ones she took out were criminals and that meant she wasn’t ruthlessly killing innocents, only those who deserved to have justice be rained down on them.
But bringing a gun here was a questionable decision, though it wasn’t one he wasn’t a stranger to. If he could bring Mjolnir with him everywhere he went without raising suspicions, he would. “Does your line of work make you happy?” Thor asked, breaking the temporary silence that befell their air of conversation. “I mean, is it fulfilling enough to make you want to keep doing it?”
Thor posed a very important question-- one that Marcela had a rather pessimistic answer for. There was a reason why the death goddess never stopped to think about the life path she had chosen for herself after the culmination of her self-imposed exile. “I haven’t been happy in centuries, Thor,” she confessed with a dry laugh, downing the rest of her champagne and setting the glass on a passing waiter’s tray before turning to face him. “But we all have to do what we can to stay afloat and live on, right? To say that doing what I do makes me happy would be a lie, and that’s not something you and I have ever done to each other. I can say, though, that this profession keeps me occupied enough to keep my mind from traveling down the same old dark paths of grief and sadness. And since Mictlāntēcutli’s departure all I have left on this Earth is myself. If I don’t put myself first, who will?”
There was some level of mutual understanding Thor was experiencing right now. Yes, on some level, though a few centuries before, Thor was of that same mindset: mindlessly distracting himself with whatever he could. The sound of his enemy’s skull being crushed by his manmade hammer, the feeling of taking another’s life in the name of justice. Thor, when Marcy spoke, heard himself many years ago, but it wasn’t until Themis did he see the light. He knew if he ever said that, it would come off as corny as hell, yet it was that simple. “What about Xolotl?” Thor asked point-blank. “He would most certainly put you above everyone else, would he not?”
Well that was a name Marcela didn’t think she’d be hearing so soon, let alone from Thor, of all people. It was clear from the way she sucked in all of the oxygen in their immediate surroundings before exhaling a long, deep breath. How Thor managed to remember this part of their conversations but not the correct way to pronounce her way was beyond her. “I don’t need Xolotl. I can take care of myself,” she said forcefully-- albeit a little too aggressively for her liking, so she hurriedly tried to make amends. “I’m sorry,” she told the Norse god with an apologetic little shrug. “It’s just… I already lost one man I loved. The last thing I want is to experience that excruciating pain for a second time.”
Thor frowned at the pessimism in her voice. He knew how much she loved Mict and, maybe because he never experienced loss quite like that, he couldn’t possibly understand the grief she endured. Still, he saw something in her eyes. “You might be able to fool everyone else, and maybe you have convinced yourself that’s the truth. But take it from someone who has found his soulmate: I know what someone’s eyes look like when they find someone special.” Thor allowed himself to pause and smile at his old friend. “And Marcy, you have that in spades.”
Discussing whatever feelings she had for Xolotl was not something the Aztec goddess wanted to indulge in-- especially not tonight, when the odds of them coming face to face with each other increased with every second she spent at this godforsaken gala. Her walls and defenses had to be at an all-time high, and a conversation like this could leave her open and vulnerable to any potential, unavoidable interactions in the near-future. So instead of offering the man a list of reasons why it didn’t matter what she did or didn’t feel for the Aztec god of lighting and fire, she chose to deflect his question from herself and onto him instead. “So you’re saying you found your soulmate? Because it sounds to me like you just said you found your soulmate,” Marcy questioned Thor with a teasing smirk.
He couldn’t help but curse at himself. At the same time, he shrugged, doing nothing to hide the truth from her. “I have,” he admitted simply. “Themis is my one and only.” Though his words were short, he spoke with pride as he always did about those important to him.
Thor was serious about this one. It was obvious by the pride in his voice, the gleam in his eyes, and the smile on his lips. Although she would never admit it, it warmed her heart to know that after centuries of losing lovers and offspring, Thor had finally found the person he was destined to have by his side.
But then she remembered how upset they both looked when arriving at the ball, and it made her wonder whether the couple was having any problems. The last thing she wanted was to see her dearest friend give his all to a woman and then get hurt, so she decided to see if there was any way she could be of assistance to him. “Forgive my intrusion, Thor, but is everything okay between you two? I couldn’t help but notice there was a frown on Themis’ face when she walked in, and that you seemed kind of distraught when I first approached you.”
Marcy’s firm reminder struck a chord with Thor and not in a negative way. He knew she was right (as she always was). But knowing how he left things off with Themis and how she stormed off, even if he were to fix things for the reasons that Marcy had stated, there was something he knew for a fact. “If only it were that simple.” Thor looked around him, making sure no mortal ears were listening to what they shouldn’t. Satisfied that there wasn’t, he continued and moved a foot closer to Marcy. “There’s something about my life and what I do -- something I haven’t divulged to Themis yet -- and she found out. And, of course, she confronted me about it during the ride here.” He chuckled at how clever that was. Just one of the many reasons why he loved her.
“And let me guess: instead of being honest, you lied to her. So she had to excuse herself before she added to that neat little bruise collection you have going on all over your face,” Marcy prompted with a questioning eyebrow.
“What?” His response was immediate. “No, she’s not responsible for my shiners. Themis is all about appearances, which is probably why she got so worried -- in her own way, mind you -- about my bruises. No, these were the result of an unforeseen consequence during a confrontation I encountered yesterday,” he admitted.
Marcela rolled her eyes and shook her head. She had forgotten how slow on the catch up Thor could be sometimes. “I wasn’t saying Themis was the one who hit you, tlatlatziniliztli. I was saying she probably wanted to hit you for lying to her,” she explained as if talking to a child. “But anyway, what’s your plan now? She clearly knows your secret already, and lying to her blew up on your face. If I may, allow me to offer you some advice, darling. If you love Lady Justice as much as you say you do, then go after her and fix your mess. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out things aren’t well between the two of you at the moment, and that can be dangerous in a place like this: full of gods and goddesses whose intentions you never quite know for certain. You never know who’s lurking around the corner waiting for their chance to use this against you and in their favor.”
That was a sentiment Thor could agree with. He knew he didn’t have a lot of friends among the pantheons. It’s not like Thor ever cared for their opinions. The only person whose opinion was worth giving a damn -- aside from Marcy, of course -- was Themis. If he had any hope of walking out of here with her no longer wanting to tear his head off, he had to swallow whatever worse-case scenario he had in his head and talk to her. “I guess I have a soulmate to find,” he joked, laughing as he set the now empty glass on a tray a passing waiter was holding. Thor gave Marcy a light hug. “Don’t be a stranger. We should definitely have tea or get a drink sometime. Maybe even have a double date.”
“Oh, absolutely! Me and my revolver would be delighted to be yours and Lady Justice’s dinner dates sometime!” she answered sarcastically before letting out a laugh. “But seriously, though, just let me know the date, time and place a few days in advance and I’ll be there. I would love to meet the woman who built up a good man into something even better.”
If Thor wasn’t the humble God that he was, he might have replied with a cheesy line about how you couldn’t improve perfection but he wasn’t conceited like the Allfather was. Given that he was the embodiment of honor and all that, he smirked with a chuckle. “You got it, Miccy!”
Before she could do more than laugh and flip him off again, Thor had disappeared into the crowd, going more towards the center of the venue. He took in his surroundings, keeping an eye out for a few people. His father, some of the other members of his pantheon, but on the top of his list was Themis. She was the top priority. If nothing else, he had to make sure they were back on solid ground before that double date could be scheduled.
“Now if I were a Titan Goddess of Justice, where would I be hiding?”
snipped
A Theía & Her Anipsiá
A Theía & Her Anipsiá
A Theía & Her Anipsiá
“Aaaaaaaand we’re all done! Take a peek in the mirror and let me know how you like it, darling.”
Since the rise of the colossus and Astraea’s fall to Earth from the skies, the young star maiden had been adopted by the most powerful elders of the Greek pantheon. The king of the gods became her grandfather figure; with his wise words, warm demeanor and endless support for her every decision and endeavor. Hera had filled the grandmother role; offering her protective nature and doing her best at keeping the girl grounded in what truly mattered. And Themis, the titan goddess of divine justice, had taken on the roles of aunt and older sister; showering Astraea with praise and affection, passing on her vast knowledge to the young woman, and becoming each other’s most trusted confidantes. And this was why, for the better part of the last four hours, the Greek goddesses had been enjoying each other’s companies as they assisted one another in getting ready for Jupiter’s charity ball at Themis’ apartment.
Nervously biting her lip, Astraea turned around to face the full length mirror of the vanity, and broke into a fit of excited giggles when she saw her reflection staring back at her. Half of her luscious locks of brown hair were pinned back while the other half cascaded freely down her back and shoulders, and the soft glam makeup Themis had done only served to highlight the star maiden’s best features. With the short-heeled gold sandals and the plum-colored gown, Astraea was looking every bit like the sky goddess that she was.
“Oh my God, Theia: you did amazing!” Astraea shrieked happily, taking in every inch of her look with sparkling eyes before wrapping Themis up in a tight hug. “Thank you so so so much!”
“You’re so very welcome! It was my pleasure, sweet pea,” the willowy blonde replied, hugging the shorter girl with the same amount of affection while bestowing a brief kiss on the top of her head. “Now, let’s spin you around so we can really see the magic!” Themis declared before grabbing Astraea’s hand, guiding her to the center of the room and starting to twirl her. For the next few moments, both women watched as the tulle on the skirt of Astraea’s beautiful dress fanned out around her. Encouraged by her laughs, Themis spun her niece faster and faster, until the giggling, dizzy young woman eventually fell backwards onto the queen-sized bed.
“I really hope at least one of the babies is a girl, theia. Or both of them! Can you imagine how much fun we’re all going to have together?! The tea parties, the makeovers, the shopping sprees… It’s going to be a blast!” Astraea trailed off, losing herself in all the fun activities she and her new baby cousins could get into before eventually pulling herself back to reality and standing back up. “Speaking of: have you told him yet?” the young woman asked Themis, bringing the spotlight back to her aunt as she raised her eyebrow at her and put her hands on her hips.
A grimace twisted the blond woman’s mouth. “Ummmm…” she trailed off, suddenly becoming very interested in the patterns on the loud fabric on her dress.
Two weeks previously, Themis had woken up from a fainting spell to Hera fanning her face and offering her a glass of water while she lay on the couch with her head propped up with a decorative cushion. After ensuring she was alright, the queen of the gods had confirmed that what Themis had dismissed as a fever dream was actually her new reality. Even still, the goddess of divine justice remained skeptical, and agreed to visit Hera’s medical practice first thing that following Monday to get a definitive confirmation. Five positive home tests, one positive blood test and an ultrasound later, any and all doubts about her ‘condition’ were dissipated. She was indeed pregnant with twins, and they did have different fathers. And as if that wasn’t enough, both children were measuring at least two weeks ahead-- which Hera predicted was due to their obvious godhood. So between the babies developing faster than normal, her growing midriff slowly becoming harder to hide, the nausea making it nearly impossible to keep her food down, the many cases waiting on her desk back at work and the Hephaestus investigation happening under the books, Themis’ mind was everywhere except in telling Thor he was to become a father. “I just haven’t found the right ti-”
“Are you serious?!” Astraea cried out, stomping her small foot on the ground in outrage. “Theía, there’s never going to be a right time to drop this kind of news on someone! You do know where we’re going tonight, right? This ball’s going to be swarming with fertility goddesses who can probably smell a baby from miles away-- let alone two! What if one of them says something, huh? Or, like, lets it slip somehow? Wouldn’t you rather he find out from you rather than someone else?”
“I know, Alana. Believe me, I know…” Themis sighed, looking up at her niece with hints of desperation and worry in her hazel eyes. “It’s just that every time I say I’m going to tell him, something always happens that distracts me from it--”
Just then, the familiar sound of keys unlocking a door, the turn of a doorknob and the front door of the building opening and closing could be heard. And seconds later, the rumbling voice of the Norse god of thunder was echoing across the otherwise empty apartment.
Since the rise of the colossus and Astraea’s fall to Earth from the skies, the young star maiden had been adopted by the most powerful elders of the Greek pantheon. The king of the gods became her grandfather figure; with his wise words, warm demeanor and endless support for her every decision and endeavor. Hera had filled the grandmother role; offering her protective nature and doing her best at keeping the girl grounded in what truly mattered. And Themis, the titan goddess of divine justice, had taken on the roles of aunt and older sister; showering Astraea with praise and affection, passing on her vast knowledge to the young woman, and becoming each other’s most trusted confidantes. And this was why, for the better part of the last four hours, the Greek goddesses had been enjoying each other’s companies as they assisted one another in getting ready for Jupiter’s charity ball at Themis’ apartment.
Nervously biting her lip, Astraea turned around to face the full length mirror of the vanity, and broke into a fit of excited giggles when she saw her reflection staring back at her. Half of her luscious locks of brown hair were pinned back while the other half cascaded freely down her back and shoulders, and the soft glam makeup Themis had done only served to highlight the star maiden’s best features. With the short-heeled gold sandals and the plum-colored gown, Astraea was looking every bit like the sky goddess that she was.
“Oh my God, Theia: you did amazing!” Astraea shrieked happily, taking in every inch of her look with sparkling eyes before wrapping Themis up in a tight hug. “Thank you so so so much!”
“You’re so very welcome! It was my pleasure, sweet pea,” the willowy blonde replied, hugging the shorter girl with the same amount of affection while bestowing a brief kiss on the top of her head. “Now, let’s spin you around so we can really see the magic!” Themis declared before grabbing Astraea’s hand, guiding her to the center of the room and starting to twirl her. For the next few moments, both women watched as the tulle on the skirt of Astraea’s beautiful dress fanned out around her. Encouraged by her laughs, Themis spun her niece faster and faster, until the giggling, dizzy young woman eventually fell backwards onto the queen-sized bed.
“I really hope at least one of the babies is a girl, theia. Or both of them! Can you imagine how much fun we’re all going to have together?! The tea parties, the makeovers, the shopping sprees… It’s going to be a blast!” Astraea trailed off, losing herself in all the fun activities she and her new baby cousins could get into before eventually pulling herself back to reality and standing back up. “Speaking of: have you told him yet?” the young woman asked Themis, bringing the spotlight back to her aunt as she raised her eyebrow at her and put her hands on her hips.
A grimace twisted the blond woman’s mouth. “Ummmm…” she trailed off, suddenly becoming very interested in the patterns on the loud fabric on her dress.
Two weeks previously, Themis had woken up from a fainting spell to Hera fanning her face and offering her a glass of water while she lay on the couch with her head propped up with a decorative cushion. After ensuring she was alright, the queen of the gods had confirmed that what Themis had dismissed as a fever dream was actually her new reality. Even still, the goddess of divine justice remained skeptical, and agreed to visit Hera’s medical practice first thing that following Monday to get a definitive confirmation. Five positive home tests, one positive blood test and an ultrasound later, any and all doubts about her ‘condition’ were dissipated. She was indeed pregnant with twins, and they did have different fathers. And as if that wasn’t enough, both children were measuring at least two weeks ahead-- which Hera predicted was due to their obvious godhood. So between the babies developing faster than normal, her growing midriff slowly becoming harder to hide, the nausea making it nearly impossible to keep her food down, the many cases waiting on her desk back at work and the Hephaestus investigation happening under the books, Themis’ mind was everywhere except in telling Thor he was to become a father. “I just haven’t found the right ti-”
“Are you serious?!” Astraea cried out, stomping her small foot on the ground in outrage. “Theía, there’s never going to be a right time to drop this kind of news on someone! You do know where we’re going tonight, right? This ball’s going to be swarming with fertility goddesses who can probably smell a baby from miles away-- let alone two! What if one of them says something, huh? Or, like, lets it slip somehow? Wouldn’t you rather he find out from you rather than someone else?”
“I know, Alana. Believe me, I know…” Themis sighed, looking up at her niece with hints of desperation and worry in her hazel eyes. “It’s just that every time I say I’m going to tell him, something always happens that distracts me from it--”
Just then, the familiar sound of keys unlocking a door, the turn of a doorknob and the front door of the building opening and closing could be heard. And seconds later, the rumbling voice of the Norse god of thunder was echoing across the otherwise empty apartment.
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