24 Hours and Drunk With Power: Part 2
"You're late." a remarkably distinct voice sliced through the air, it was like a sword wrapped in silk. A strange chill began to roll along the floor, climbing the walls, invading the air.
Antonio glanced around the expansive room, trying to place the owner of the voice.
"Over here."
Antonio stood still, tossing his arms out beside him. "And here would be where exactly?
What sounded like a hiss seemed to echo around Ares' quarters. What the … Antonio thought, glancing around.
"Look behind you, mortal."
Spinning around, the Italian found himself face to face with… nothing.
"This is your first lesson." The voice seared the air.
Antonio remained still, hoping if he stopped searching, whoever was speaking, would reveal themselves.
"First lesson? Isn't the teacher kinda required to show up for the first lesson?" Antonio pedalled the question forward while crossing his arms.
"Cease with the arrogance. You have had your first lesson. I asked you several times to look for me, and still you could not find me. That is how the mortal mind works. It blinds itself to the object of its quest, because it only ever looks for the obvious. That is only one side. Justice, on the other hand, must be blind, thus reaching both sides, revealing itself through the truth. You will learn to find justice, amongst your blindness."
"And you are..?" Antonio questioned, thinly veiling his disdain.
"I am Nemesis, Goddess of Retribution… Now, pay attention, mortal, you have much to learn…"
Shaira may have walked through the door to Aphrodite's quarters, but it was certainly not where she had ended up.
Curiouser and curiouser… She thought to herself.
She was no doubt in some sort of garden, a garden that seemed perennially bathed in the ethereal sun, and tended by the divine touch of Demeter's hand. One prominent feature was a glowing marble bird bath, around which a few cooing doves had settled. Wandering towards a path of roses, she noticed a golden light headed in her direction.
"You are Shaira, there is no doubt, I can see my mother's light in you." Said a rich voice, a tenor that on earth would wreak havoc with its beauty. She turned around to find a man, adorned in the same golden light she'd seen moments earlier. His hair was smooth and wavy, like the most decadent chocolate ganache. Shaira glanced into his eyes, eyes like aqua water in the afternoon soon, before scanning down the rest of his body. Strong but elegant wings blossomed from the back of his bare torso, over which some kind of case was slung. In his hands, with wrists adorned by golden cuffs, was a bow.
"I am Eros, and I will be your guide," He said, his smile cuing her racing heart to stampede against her chest. He could have said something about cheese for all she cared. She was gone.
"Enchanté," Shaira finally managed, syncopating her missed beat with a perfect French accent and a coquettish smile.
The Indian girl smiled, wondering how the painters in history had gotten Eros so wrong. He was no infant, if anything; he was like a godly version of a Latino model. With the softest touch, he took her hand, kissing it with the sensation of unearthly velvet.
"Come, let our lessons begin…" he said, taking her hand and leading her further into the Olympian gardens.
Hephaestus workshop was like an enormous mosaic of heavy artillery, unbelievable metals and unidentifiable objects of different shapes and sizes, all posed in front of a mirror. Such was the kaleidoscopic effect of the room that Alex was sure his head was beginning to throb slightly.
"Don't worry, kid, you'll get used to it. Soon you won't get enough of it," said a voice, its person camouflaged amongst the items in the workshop.
"Where… um, are you?" Alex asked tentatively.
Suddenly a figure rose from behind an enormous tower of Olympian bronze. It soon stared down at Alex, its singular eye studying its pupil.
"A Cyclops…" Alex murmured, suddenly uncomfortable with blinking two eyes.
The Cyclops stood there, wearing a laughing smile. "Don't believe everything you hear, kid, we Cyclops' have excellent skills with craft, and according to Heph, you do, too… Let's get started, there's a lot to learn!"
Calliope was not entirely prepared for Seth's response when he joined them in 'his' room; although, it did draw a laugh out of the usually sullen Melpomene. Calliope had braced herself for awe, disbelief or amazement; she hadn't expected the words that flowed from their new Apollo...
"Oh dear Gods not you, anything but you!" he cried upon sighting the Muse.
Between her rare fit of laughter Melpomene managed to calm her leader, "Well can you blame him? You pulled him into the past, gave him special powers, told him he is essentially a God and sent him into a strange room full of women?"
Seth coughed, "But, err, the room is lovely?"
"That's fine dear, sorry for shocking you." Calliope recovered herself, "I had a wonderful epic tale to tell you... but Euturpe says that you are more of Musician so we shall conduct our lesson in song..."
The Muses burst into a medley of modern songs weaving together a tale for Seth to follow; he picked up the nearby lyre and took up the slack.
We are the Muses, Proclaimers of Heroes
We thought you'd never get this far
You said your words, we've played our parts
So you think you know how this story goes
Are you ready for this?
One dream in all of us still shining,
One star, the everlasting light,
So lost inside, to the ending paradise
United, victorious, the hearts of our nation tonight...
We were strangers on a crazy adventure,
Never dreaming how our dreams would come true
Now here we stand unafraid of the future...
You didn't count on this,
Before your very first kiss,
This isn't the path we choose,
But there's so much we could lose,
Team up! Cause it's not too late,
We can save the day if collaborate...
You'll paint us mornings of gold, as the world falls down...
If we care to find you, we'll look to the western sky
It's time to trust your instincts, close your eyes and leap
A cloak and dagger, no fear of freedom
Ever changing, the clock ticks on,
And though the clock ticks on to the future
It's in the past my heart will stay,
In a time so far from me, I'll return someday...
You try so hard to be alive
What else can you do, but close your eyes
You're burning so bright,
I'll always keep the light on for you...
Life's a show and we all play a part,
And when the music starts, we open up our hearts,
Where there's life, there's hope
And I wish I, wish I knew the right words
To make you feel better, walk out of this place
And defeat them in your secret battle...
Why is the path unclear?
Understand we'll go hand in hand,
But we'll walk alone in fear,
Where do we go from here?
And that's the Gospel Truth...
While they were singing Seth was absorbing the mixture of lyrics painting in his mind a picture of their tale and their teachings.
What greeted Matt was nothing short of unspectacular. No, really, he was greeted with what to all appearances was a normal everyday office. He walked into the room, gently closing the door behind him. Deciding there wasn't really much more to do than sit down Matt manoeuvred his way to the desk and reclined back in the chair, making use of the desk as a foot stool.
"You know, given all that big talk from the crazy ladies in purple, I was expecting something spectacular." He grumbled giving the small statuette on the desk a shove with his foot.
What Matt didn't notice was the walls behind him slide away, revealing a huge modern-day-esque computer room. In the centre sat a large, golden map of Greece with various spots lit up in red. It was only when he heard someone clear their throat that he bothered to spin around in his chair.
Sitting at one of the large control screens was a Griffin. This was impressive for two reasons, one being that his wing span was quite impressive and still managed to fit inside the room. Two being that he was sitting in a swivel chair.
"So you have discovered the hidden wonder of Hermes' office then? This is good as you have much to learn. This is the message system control centre. Hephaestus helped out a lot with the layout, but the thought was pure Hermes'... and maybe a little Athena."
"So what, I need to master an Ancient Greek email system?" Matt asked, attempting, and failing, to hide his grin
"Nonsense! This is far more complex than email! This interconnects people's conscious calling thoughts! Not only that but you must pick up the sacred mantle of the staff and sandals." The Griffin cried in outrage.
"Uh huh... The sacred mantle of the staff... And sandals? Sure mate, of course I do." Matt was still talking through his grin
"The insolence of you! When they said you would be similar to Hermes I didn't expect you to have the pain-in-the-arse-little-guy-syndrome-sarcastic-son-of-a-bitch complex!"
"Oh well my sincere apologies, shall I go home and you can call someone else?" Matt enquired in a sarcastically polite voice.
"All right wise guy let's get you started then, no harm done." Grumbled the Griffin.
Matt cracked another wide grin and took up a seat next to the Griffin, "Righto."
Xavier looked at everyone heading towards their doors and threw his arms up in a stopping motion.
"Wait! I'm the leader and I'll say when we go..." he glanced around then room, noticing it was now empty, "err... now we go." He finished lamely walking through his own door.
"Now," boomed a loud voice "How am I supposed to teach a schmuck like you to be the 'King of Olympus' when your girl has more authority about her?"
Xavier was outraged, "You just wait one Gods damned minute mister. I am a perfectly adequately authoritive-ish figure and no one tells me what to do." He paused, "except Catarina and err, don't tell her I called her that..." he concluded sheepishly
"So you do have fight in you after all, no harm done young fella, just needed to check. No being shamed about fear of Hera either. Names Hercules, but you can call me Herc. I'm one of the few people other than Zeus that can wield his thunderbolt. You need to learn to wield it, let's go." The large man clapped Xavier on the back, knocking him to the ground.
Whilst laid out on his stomach Xav took the opportunity to look at where he was. Before him was a huge field set with obstacles, targets, dummies, boulders, climbing walls and other various training devices he had never seen before.
"I trained here when I was a teen, just coming into my Godly powers."
"Greeeat…" Xav replied, rolling his eyes.
As charming and entertaining, and well, beautiful, as Eros was, Shaira couldn't take her mind off of what had happened just hours earlier. Her friend, Ruby Matthews, had aimed a ball of raging fire at her, which she'd been beyond lucky to miss. Antonio, as she had partially expected, jumped in front of her, armed in his fierce protectiveness, to somehow prevent whatever had been about to happen. If it hadn't been so frightening, it would have been dramatically wonderful.
Unable to help it, Shaira smiled to herself. The unexpected element of the speedy saga was that Alex Peterson, had flung himself in front of her too, crashing into Antonio on the way. Boys… she thought, wearing a smile that was both impish and thoughtful.
"Shaira?" a silky voice interrupted her daydream.
"Hmm?" she murmured softly, meeting Eros' glimmering blue eyes.
"The others and I have been summoned by the Muses. Will you be… Alright… By yourself, for a little while?" He asked, anxiety melodiously swirling around his words.
It was sweet, really. She'd only briefly told him what had happened, and suddenly he felt like her divine bodyguard. There hadn't been any request as such, but for some reason he felt the need to follow her around and guard her closely. Perhaps it would wear off, once she convinced him Ruby was no longer a threat. Still, she wasn't sure she could do that until she'd convinced herself.
"I'll be fine," Shaira told him with a smile "but, thank you for your concern. I just need to go and speak to someone."
Eros nodded in a most gentlemanly manner, and flew out of Aphrodite's quarters. The whole thing was unbelievable. None of what had happened so far seemed to make much sense whatsoever, but at the same time, it was as though they'd known the Muses their entire life. Even physically, things felt different. Her body seemed to have settled into its new environment quite appreciatively, while she mentally struggled against believing their new reality.
She lay back across Aphrodite's chaise longue. It was like lying in plush liquid hands, hands that caressed her bare back, seeping into her skin to massage away at her tensions. Bliss… she mentally murmured, Aphrodite probably doesn't have much to worry about with a chaise like this…—NO.
The realisation quickly set in. There was no time to lay back and melt into a magical piece of furniture. The only way anything would be solved was if she dealt with it herself. It was supremely frustrating, the condescending way she was sometimes treated by her friends, and for what? She was used to Raine's brusque nature, and knew that Raine rarely meant anything by it, that it was just her 'way', but even that was starting to grate on her. The endless commands without explanations, the warnings of 'consequences' without reasons… How long did they truly expect her to take it?
Shaira knew there was only one other person she could speak to, that might disclose whatever secret was clearly being kept from her. Glancing in the mirror, she allowed herself split second surveillance, before confidently flicking her liquorice locks and waltzing out of her quarters.
It all depended on his mood. It was really the only variable in the whole situation. Mentally crossing her fingers, Shaira knocked on the door to Ares' quarters.
"Come in," Antonio's voice resounded from behind the door.
Carefully, she pushed open the door and saw Antonio examining an immense wall hanging that held several swords and daggers of various shapes and sizes. Affording a quick glance at the rest of the enormous room, she noted that there were only two things of prominence in Ares' quarters… The myriad of weapons, and a rather sizeable bed.
"Are you ok?" Antonio's asked, scanning her up and down as he walked over to her.
"Me?" She chimed, transferring her gaze from the bed to Antonio's quizzical expression.
"It's the weapons, isn't it?" He said, cockily bestowing a quick upwards nod as he waved his arms around at Ares' arsenal.
"Yes, Antonio, it's the weapons…" Shaira told him, her eyes alight as she gracefully draped herself across the edge of the bed. Antonio grinned, and shook his head knowingly. Shaira laughed flirtatiously, before jumping into his arms.
Gently running her palms along his chest, she slowly laced them around his neck and smiled, spurred by the shiver rippling through her skin as his hands curved around the small of her back.
"So," she began, her fingernails smoothly swirling designs along the back of his neck "I never got to thank you.... For before,"
Antonio grinned, pulling her closer. "True…"
Suddenly, Shaira detangled herself from their embrace and walked a short distance away, her back toward him. Completely thrown by her unexpected detachment, Antonio rushed over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. There was no way he expected shock of the earlier to events to have vanished from her mind. It hadn't quite faded for him, that much he knew for sure. And probably not from Alex's either… he groaned inwardly.
"Shai… talk to me," he murmured, massaging her shoulders.
Slowly, she turned around, her eyes shimmering with an odd mix of expectation and confusion. Her gaze descended slowly towards the ground as she unknowingly commenced pacing, observing how her dress skimmed the floor as she glided across it. Antonio remained silent, his eyes tracing her every movement, searching for a sign he wasn't sure he'd recognise.
Pausing, she spun around to face him, viewing the unusual picture of uncertainty shaping his features. "Tony, baby, I—I… Oh, never mind."
"No... How about you tell me what's wrong." He responded strongly, quickly demolishing any façade of uncertainty.
"Will you be honest and give me a real answer?" Shaira questioned seriously.
"Of course," Antonio finally said, a beat late.
Breathing deeply, Shaira walked back into his arms, so close she could almost melt against him.
"I've been having some problems lately…" she began, her right hand stroking his shoulder "Let's say, they concern… Welllll, Ruby."
"Yeah… We all saw that, today," he said, kissing the hand she'd placed on his shoulder.
Shaira nodded, resting her head against neck. "You could say it's been going on for a little while now, today was just her breaking point. Anyway, you see, since you guys are friends, well, better friends than she and I apparently are…"
Antonio pulled away gently "Yeeeeeah…"
Shaira smiled hopefully. "I thought maybe, since you guys always seem to have stuff to talk about and WEIRD jokes that you won't explain to me…" she paused to sigh deeply "I thought that you might be able to enlighten me, because no one else will. Hell, Raine's been crisper than ever, and ironically, her orders seem to have less and less reasoning… Kittie becomes unusually incoherent when I try to talk to her about it. Even Demi won't elaborate! She just politely puts the subject aside! I wanted to talk to Ruby myself, but after today…"
"I can understand why," Antonio muttered his agreement.
While Shaira continued talking, he found his attention being drawn to the ceiling where Ares had created temporary constellations depicting various war strategies. As he mindlessly stared at the numerous battle plans Ares had drawn in the stars, Antonio wondered at what point he'd blindfolded himself to her modus operandi. Her outburst was due, it wasn't unreasonable really, considering the secrecy and useless wishful thinking on everyone else's part.
Shaira continued stating her case "… So, really, I don't get it! I haven't done anything to her, but she could rival the arctic with the freeze she's been giving me lately. I'm so tired of it, Antonio, too tired… Honestly, why does she hate me? What is it that has somehow driven her up the vicious wall of bitterness and malice? What have I done that has become a perennial thorn in her side? Why…GAH, I don't GET it. And you know what; it wouldn't be so bad if everyone else was still behaving normally, but no…"
If he'd somehow given the impression that he was listening intently, Shaira believed it and continued, her expression growing more ardent with each spieling second. It was highly possible that she'd even forgotten his presence and was lost in the sound of her own passionate monologue. Either way, Antonio had heard all he needed. Now the charade could only go on so long.
Daaaayum, she can talk, he thought, Well, Raine's gonna be pissed off now, and no doubt, the shit's gon' hit the fan…
"Shaira…" Antonio finally murmured, causing Shaira to pause her spiralling tangent. Refraining from massaging his temples, he walked over to her, placing an arm around her shoulder, while he tried to enter a strategic headspace.
"So, you'll tell me?" she said, her voice glossed over with hope.
There was a long pause, during which time Shaira grew confused at Antonio's silence and Antonio's silence grew, to confuse Shaira. It was useless. Quickly summoning his options, Antonio considered each one.
Tell Shaira the entire damn truth, and face being burnt by Raine's Bunsen burner… Stabbed by Ruby's steak knife… While being pushed into a pool of emotional guilt by Demi… All the while, Alex's fucking crush goes nowhere, Shaira is merely flattered, turns him down… Ruby hates the world… And nothing is solved.
Tell Shaira half of the truth… What she doesn't know will… Eventually come back to kick us all in the ass.
Tell Shaira nothing, obey Raine (pfffft) and continue to watch while Alex acts like a fool and Ruby's anger boils over until she snaps hardcore… No. Wait…THAT'S ALREADY HAPPENED.
Tell Shaira nothing, and deal with the OTHER source of the problem…Ruby
"Antonio…. Antonio! He-llo!" Shaira snapped manicured fingers in front of his stoic countenance.
"Uh… Yeah, I gotta go," Antonio quickly told her, before disappearing from Ares' quarters.
Shaira stood there, encircled by a bubble of bewilderment. Who did he think he was? Her request was not nearly that crazy. Useless. Everyone was useless! There was no way she could hang around with any of her friends, not as long as she was consumed by her curiosity, mainly because they wouldn't tolerate her questions, and she could not tolerate that.
I hate men, Shaira decided, strutting out of Ares' quarters …Now, where's Eros?
Ruby poured every iota of concentration into reading and re-reading Hestia's recipe scrolls, her eyes scanning each one in a strangely focused trance. There was an odd comfort in the meaninglessly repetitive behavior, the steady stream of consciousness lost to such a mundane activity. She paused briefly, if only to consider her sanity at that very moment. It was getting ridiculous, this mental chokehold. Being in a kitchen should have been soothing, therapeutic even, considering their situation. There was no way anything mortally created could ever rival Hestia's culinary utopia.
Upon her first entrance, the kitchen seemed to resemble something like a ballroom, a strange, otherworldly ballroom that basked in its own golden glow, animatedly emanating from all the bullion columns and wall sculptures. None of it looked real; it was like stepping inside a moving painting where each line had been painstakingly drawn with a blade-like precision. The arched windows that stood between each solid gold column invited in the dark, electric nature of the twilight sky, causing the pillars to shine even more brightly.
The light seemed drawn to the very centre of the room, where an enormous cauldron of gold, with a rim of celestial rubies. The giant cauldron was like an anchor, centering the purpose of this 'room' in spite of its grandeur. Ruby turned away from the immensely bedazzled vessel, and looked at the wall beside her, suddenly realizing just how she could easily spend flicking through scrolls until she was physically numb. The entire wall was covered with scrolls that seemed to be like rolls of silk, suspended in the air.
It was only a few minutes after Ruby had stopped staring at the surroundings that something had willed her to look up at the enormous dome ceiling. Built into the ceilings, at least fifty feet above her was a shelf curving into the dome like an enormous, infinite spiral. Upon the boundless single shelf were ingredients and items that from a distance shone like jewels revolving in vials of unearthly light. Their strange inanimate presences seem to change shape constantly, as though obeying the invisible command of a foreign gravity.
"Well, if it isn't my favourite porn novelist…" interrupted an undoubtedly cocky male voice, effectively shredding Ruby's reverie.
"If it isn't Romeo himself, stepping into the kitchen. What's the matter, Tony, getting soft?" she replied tauntingly.
Antonio flung his right fist to his heart, contorting his face into a likeness of mock pain. "Damn Ruby, careful, we don't want those flaming fists to come out now, do we?"
Glowering at him, she turned her attention back to sifting through the mound of recipes scrolls, resuming the aimless search, hoping it would force her to believe she was busy.
Ignoring Ruby's newly feigned unawareness, Antonio continued. "Besides, you coulda fooled me…This doesn't look any kitchen I've ever seen."
"I don't know which is truer… The idea that you've never seen a kitchen or that I could have fooled you." she retorted steadily, meeting his arrogantly aware gaze. Forcing her eyes back to the ancient calligraphy, Ruby hoped that if she concentrated hard enough on ignoring him, he would just leave.
"So, I'mma get straight to it," Antonio said pointedly, as he began pacing "and I know you're not actually reading any of those things, so you might as well quit with all that and listen."
Why did I think this would be easy? Ruby wondered, rolling her eyes. Dealing with Antonio was like dealing with the older brother she never had, but worse. She couldn't put up a front around him, and usually, she didn't want to. Normally, it was easy, straightforward. He teased her about her red hair and strange (secret) addiction to 'romance' novels and she did everything in her power to taunt his masculinity. Why? Because they knew they could each take it, without getting caught up in sensitivity. It was the basis of a great, and very real, friendship, one which astounded the rest of their group. Of course, that was back when they were all normal teenagers leading pleasantly ordinary lives, and her issues with Shaira and Alex hadn't blown up like one of Andy Fantom's chemistry experiments. Divinity did strange things to one's psyche.
"Ok, Tony," she murmured, already feeling the will to fight him drain from her voice and body "Hit me."
Antonio grinned, revelling momentarily in the feeling of satisfaction. Running a hand through his hair, he continued his pacing with a new sense of command in his swagger.
"So, Shaira came up to me before," he recommenced, adopting a new voice, an all-knowing voice that echoed the enjoyment of power, of control.
Her energy was back with a vengeance. "Really? Princess Popular came up to you, Cocky Casanova? Stop the press!" She flicked her cynical gaze to the ceiling.
Rapidly pointing at the very air, where she'd spat her words, Antonio nodded. "There it is. Your literary talents shine through again… Your alliteration was always good. Maybe your next novel should have an alliterated title? Think about it."
Ruby shook her ahead, and allowed a briefly sarcastic glance up at the ceiling. "Oh please, that was abysmal. But then again, what do you know? Get on with it."
Antonio laughed, as he crossed his arms, assuming the air of the mafia off-duty. "You might not want to alienate your biggest supporter…Who's gonna be funding your publishing company, serf?"
"Oh, you're right!" She enacted a faux cringe "We can't have that, can we? Nor can I take another minute of your stalling."
"I'm not stalling, who's stalling?" Antonio replied quickly, throwing his arms open, apparently at ease with her increasing frustration.
"Tony…" She began, her tone jaggedly scratching through a chromatic scale of irritation.
"Yeah, ok, I'll get to it." Antonio responded calmly, looking her dead in the eye "Shaira came up to me before, and started attacking me with questions."
"Yeah, I imagine she'd be good at that… How did she do it? Trails of lingering kisses while whispering breathily in your ear until you willingly told all?" Ruby snapped crossly, immediately regretful afterwards. Her relationship with Shaira may have been overwhelmingly awry, but Shaira was still Antonio's girlfriend, and there was no way he would, or could, take that lightly. The backhanded stab at him had been an unintentional fringe benefit for about a nanosecond, until the taste of guilt rose like bile in her mouth. If he'd taken any offense to Ruby's remark, he managed to conceal it uncharacteristically well.
Ruby breathed deeply and shook her head, lowering her gaze to the ground "I'm sorry, Tony, I didn't mean to—"
"Forget it." He said tightly, still staring her straight in the eyes. Pausing for a moment, he stood there in silence, either to allow her guilt to fester or reconsider his words, perhaps both.
It was starting to hit Ruby hard, now. There was no doubt she was the most wounded in the whole twisted scenario, but others had been hurt or somehow affected in the crossfire, some figuratively and another, almost literally. None of the brusque talks Raine had given, none of Demi's sweet, motherly advice had broken through to her like the silent Italian that stood before her. His fists were clenched, not poised for violence, but as a reflexive act to seize his control, and focus his thoughts. That he was ignoring all his instincts to snap, as he stood in front of her, was a strangely powerful thing.
She wondered for a second, if he was going to continue, but she didn't dare speak first. Regret had placed its commanding finger against her lips.
"She asked me a lot of questions," Antonio finally said, as he resumed his pacing "Of course, how many different ways are there to say 'Tony, why does Ruby hate me?'"
Ruby remained quiet. Making his way around the luminous cauldron, Antonio took that interval of silence to consider his words carefully. They were so used to banter, the pair of them. Stupid remarks that in their regular, every-day context were just jokes, comments that felt natural, had no place in their current situation. It was hard, especially with their longstanding, unspoken tradition that dictated that should things ever become too sentimental, some appropriately silly comment was dispatched to swiftly, and transparently, veil any genuine feelings. It was natural, it was their way.
"So I'm looking at her, she's looking at me, waiting for some kind of response," he continued after a suitable number of seconds had passed "And then I remember the number of times I've been told by Demi…Raine—" his eyes rolled upwards as he considered many past lectures from their intellectual friend, and somehow, he managed a small smile "—Not to breathe a word of the problem to Shaira. Apparently, they all believed it was some stupid crush that would fade out after awhile. When it didn't, and they were wrong… They failed to think of a new solution. Like the old one was so effective." He finished contemptuously.
"So, I guess they thought, as long as Shaira didn't know… And I have no idea where they got this fucked up logic from… Things would sort themselves out. And you know what, I for awhile, I believed it, ok no, I didn't believe it but I did get where they were coming from." Antonio stated, standing squarely in front of Ruby "I got that you didn't want to make things more complex than they are, and you were respecting his wishes by not saying anything, because, let's face it, it would be a million years, if that, before he had the courage to go up to her."
"You're right," Ruby said, momentarily startled by the sound of her own voice in motion.
Antonio closed his eyes and gave her an exaggerated nod, before pointing at her as though she'd just found the conversational golden egg. "That's it. I know I'm right, you know I'm right, yet, nobody could be fucked listening to what I have to say."
"Ok, 'Oh wise and enlightened Drama King' what do you propose?" Ruby asked, a little tentative with the humour. When she saw him smile, an automatic sense of calm rushed over her, knowing they were back in their natural territory.
"So here's the thing, shocking as it might be, everyone's gotta stop focusing on Shaira... Now, you might find this hard to believe, but she's not actually the problem here." Antonio paused, waiting for some sign that his words had sunk into Ruby's consciousness.
"I do not comprehend." Ruby replied robotically, her voice signaling for him to continue.
Antonio began pacing again, his swagger at full volume. "Well, I think we need to shift focus here, change gears… Stop looking at your opponent, and start focusing on your team."
Ruby smiled half-sarcastically. When he started with the football metaphors, there was no stopping him. He smirked, enjoying that he knew she knew precisely what he was doing.
He continued "So like I said, the problem lies in your team…There's no point having good offense and defense alone, when your midfield is screwed up. You've got a goal keeper, you've got forwards' and fullbacks but…You've got no one in the midfield. There's no core in this team. Ruby, you can snap all you want, or you can hide all you want, but there ain't gonna be a goal when your midfielders are running around like Lana on an ice-cream overload."
They both paused briefly for an individual reminiscence on last sports day, when Lana had eaten two ice blocks and three and a half ice creams, after her seven races, and was speeding across the grounds—just for fun— like a caffeine-drunk Road Runner.
"Ok, I gotcha," Ruby said, ending their joint nostalgia at the right time "Where are you going with this?"
"Patience, serf, patience," Antonio answered, grinning away to glory "So, your midfield is screwed up. This pretty much puts your team in a really shitty position."
"Tony, as much as I love the metaphors, could you please be even blunter? I could really do with the honesty," Ruby suggested, fighting the annoying little quiver that had entered her voice.
Antonio's face softened slightly. "Ok, it's like this. You gotta talk to Alex. He's your midfield. He's obviously the thing that's holdin' you down. Normally, that would be a good thing, but in this case, he's stopping you from himself, and he doesn't know that. Or maybe he does, but he's so blinded by Shaira he won't admit it to himself. He thinks he's been influenced by others, he didn't believe it when Raine told him that you love him. You gotta tell him. Stop focusing on Shaira, and tell him how you feel. Telling Shaira will do jack all, I mean really, why are we keeping it from her? What difference does it make except that in the current situation, people are getting hurt and annoyed from all the fucking tension. You have to tell him you feel, it's that simple."
"No!" Ruby retorted with adamancy that had sprung out of her throat like a tightly wound slinky she'd forgotten was there.
Antonio ran a hand through his hair, as he looked to the ground for a few seconds, then at her. "May I ask why?"
"Because… Because…" She struggled.
"Look, I've been honest with you… Against everyone's orders, so I think at the very least, you can be honest with me. Say it, let go of the shit you've been holdin' onto for so long." Antonio said straightforwardly.
Ruby blinked in surprise. Gods…For someone so full of himself, he can be freakishly perceptive and annoyingly logical when he wants to be, Ruby thought, surprised.
"Well, honestly," Ruby began, inhaling deeply "I don't want Alex to know for three reasons."
Antonio raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"Number one, if tell him, or in any way try to discourage him from liking Shaira, he'll probably think that I don't respect what he wants. Number two, I don't want to lose him as a friend, and if he doesn't feel the same about me, which clearly—" she paused for a cocktail snort of contempt and wistfulness "— he doesn't, it might make things awkward for him if he found out. And thirdly, and maybe it's the worst one of all, and you might laugh at me, but I…don'twannaberejected." The words ran out at their own free will, skidding into one another in their eagerness to escape Ruby's long-forced restraint. She crossed her arms defensively, fixing her ochre eyes on Antonio's espresso ones.
"There are a few holes in your reasoning," Antonio pointed out, a moment later
"Firstly—" he lifted his index finger as he began to circle Ruby "respecting what he wants? Pft. It's not like you have to go all out to diss Shai. Hell, it's not like even have to mention her at all…" he paused to watch her tilt her head to the side in a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.
Stepping his coach persona up a notch, he continued "Like I said before, you're focusing too much on your opponent. Forget her. Just leave her out of this, yeah? Flaws with reason number two. You guys are best friends, have been forever, I really don't think you could lose him over this. It might be awkward for awhile, and I know Alex around you, he's more open than he is with anyone else. Well, he'll work out pretty quickly that he can't deal without you, so he'll get over both his crush and your—" Antonio lowered his voice into a highly caricatured bass "—'epically soul-destroying' information, pretty quickly. Both of you will heal faster."
"And… Dare I say it," Ruby muttered, shrugging helplessly "what about number three?"
Antonio looked at her for a second, as though he were studying her, forming some kind of visual graph before he presented his opinion. It was all part of his strategic team captain mindset, rarely used outside football. Then again, he was full of surprises, which in paradoxical theory, should have been both shocking and expected.
"Number three…" He said, pretending to ponder, before grinning broadly "Come on, Ruby, seriously! Put yourself out there! You can't go through life with a fear of rejection."
"Right. I'm taking life advice from a sickeningly wealthy Italian who has both his own Maserati Gran Turismo and Ferrari California, wears socks that are probably worth more than my shoes and always has at least five hundred dollars cash, in his wallet. Great. What is the world coming to? Next thing you know I'll be hugging children and putting smoke detectors in my house." Ruby said sarcastically, which somehow contradicted the infectious smile she'd unknowingly picked up from him. Antonio was smirking back at her, unashamedly.
"You're only scared of a possibility. But there's every fricken possibility he'll turn around and be…I dunno… Awoken! He might just snap out of his daydream and see just what a good thing he's got in his reality, before he loses it." Antonio paused, working out how to abide by their 'tradition' "And if Alex has half a glass of sense, somewhere in his wimpish brain… He won't wanna do that."
Satisfied that his Alex-insult was an adequate way to tease her without hurting her, Antonio folded his arms and nodded. It was a few moments later that Ruby had heard him, heard what he'd implied, not what he'd said. She allowed herself a small inner smile. Goodness knows, it had been awhile since she'd done that, or felt deserving of a compliment. Well, one that wasn't about her cooking.
"Gotcha Tony, I hear you loud and clear, really I do, but still… No." Ruby said, flustered by the shyness she was feeling in front of Antonio. It was weird sharing her love life with him! Weirder still, was that he was being so forthright and rational with her, unlike everyone else, who'd merely given her commands without explanations for anything other than damaging consequences.
Antonio tilted his head made a semi-pleading face. "Aw, come on Ruby…"
"No. I'd really prefer it if Alex just stopped crushing on her. Just like he started, he's gotta stop."
"Yeah… We both know how successful that's been." Antonio remarked sardonically, before pausing to breathe deeply "Look, I did what I came to do, and I can't force you to do more than you want… S'all on you now."
Ruby picked up a scroll and what in most mortal kitchens would have been a wooden spoon, but in Hestia's kitchen was a feather-weight gold spatula encrusted with jewels with a strange swirling liquid inside them. She pointed the spatula in his direction with a faux-threatening stance.
"You better go, I've gotta make dinner." Ruby told him, as she began reading from a recipe scroll.
"Ok," Antonio answered as he hung his head, putting his arms up, palms flat against the air "I hear ya… See ya later, serf."
"See ya." Ruby tossed the words over her shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she saw him toss an arm in the air, as he walked away, a typically male way of handling a blasé goodbye. What more did she expect? For him to stay and keep trying to convince her? Would that have made a difference, a little more persistence? Why did people insist on not 'forcing' her!?
Because if they forced you, then you'd definitely not listen, some supremely aware part of her conscience reminded her. All things considered, at least someone, even if was the unsuspecting Antonio, had been completely honest with her.
She wished could do the same for herself.
Hades growled. The object on the receiving end, closed indignantly. It was a scroll, but not just any scroll.
"This scroll is not like ANY scroll, BAH!" Hades growled, his voice booming from his quarters, right across the Underworld, like a pipe organ struck by lightning.
"What's the matter?" Andy asked evenly, who'd surprised herself by becoming very calm around the Lord of the Dead.
Hades raised a liquid black brow, his thin lips curving into maddened smile. "'What's the matter?' you ask, young Andy?"
Andy furrowed her brows. Since the Fates had left, Hades had remained holed up in his quarters like a divine hermit, and hadn't even bothered to explain any further details of Andy's presence in the Land of the Dead. While she had enjoyed the Elysium Fields, she grew bored, and wasn't in the mood to repair her TARDIS.
"This scroll," Hades began, suddenly so composed, Andy could have sworn he were about to recite Shakespeare "is a living map of the entire cosmos, you merely touch where you wish to see, and continue, until you are viewing your selection just as though you were there. There is no place it cannot see, no time it cannot reach…"
Andy answered earnestly. "Well, that's great—"
"EXCEPT FOR NOW! It won't let me view Olympus! Past, present OR future! This has never happened before! NooOOoo! When I didn't want to see certain acts of certain things between certain deities, it showed them! When I didn't want to witness certain birthdays of certain siblings at a certain soiree I wasn't invited to, it showed them! When I wanted to see Aphrodite—Er, never mind, but, yes, IT SHOWED IT. NOW. NOW IT shows, nothing! The scroll won't let me touch Olympus! That's right, it closes, defying ME, Lord of the Underworld…" Hades continued in his raging monologue, slightly irritated that he enjoyed having an audience of one.
"Why does it matter so much?" Andy interrupted.
Hades paused. His countenance froze. He hadn't time to explain things to this mortal, who had surprised him in her short time in the Underworld. Each line of his irises seemed to be enflamed by an overwhelming frustration to throttle something… Or someone.
"Andy, have you ever had something that threatened your success?" Hades asked, adopting a philosophical tone of voice.
"Not being allowed in the physics lab after hours?" Andy suggested.
"Yes, well, clearly this room is the key to your very being… It holds all the things you require to achieve your means, yes? Of course, should someone else obtain the items you require, they could steal your success and those very items could be your undoing, yes?"
"Yes…"
"Well, consider Olympus the room to success, and all that it holds the key to either my—our downfall, or our success." Hades stated.
Andy nodded tentatively. Advanced calculus was a total breeze compared to following a spiel by the Lord of the Dead.
Hades continued "Well, now that the scroll will not allow me to view what threatens to destroy us, I have no choice but to blindly find a way to destroy IT."
Slowly submerging into a pool of confusion, Andy wanted to press pause on his spiralling speech. It did catch her attention however, his inclusion of her, as though they were some kind of… team.
Why should I trust him? Why shouldn't I trust him? I'm living in the Elysium Fields, and he did rescue me from burning in a rabid witch hunt… Andy thought, considering her options.
"Andy?" Hades voice cut through her thoughts.
"You need to destroy something, right?" Andy finally answered.
The God's eyes widened "That I do… Do you have some suggestions?"
Andy concentrated. "Well, I don't know what time this is, but if I were you, I'd lay a series of decoys… Traps, if you will, and lead this 'thing' to a place, in a time, where it WILL be destroyed, but not by your hand."
Blinking with interest, Hades placed his chin between his thumb and his forefinger "You mean, send it somewhere where destruction is imminent? Then it will be gone by default?"
Andy nodded. "Clearly you can't see it where it is, but hey, you're the Lord of the Dead… You've got connections! Find a way to lure it out of Olympus, then see if you can view it at all, once you've pushed into Greece. Theeeen… I don't know, send it to somewhere war-worthy."
"Hmmm, that does sound interesting… It could very well work. But where to send my enemies…" Hades began to mutter to himself, as he unravelled the scroll.
Staring at the glowing parchment, he saw a red flag suddenly go up in Sparta. Andy walked over and stood beside him, tilting her head as she gazed at the scroll, awe-struck.
"What does that mean..?" Andy asked, pointing where the red-flag had gone up.
"Conflict is impending," Hades answered, excitement bubbling up in his voice. He circled his hand several times in the air above Sparta, and it instantly seemed to zoom into its core.
A royal court came into view, a few hundred men of different statures, but mostly noble were standing around, their eyes numbed by the beauty that graced the throne before them, seated next to her feather.
Suddenly, another red flag popped up on another land, one much further away from Sparta. The flag was a distinct shade of red. It's moving figure and fanning material was a sign. A blood sign.
"I do believe, we have found our solution," Hades announced, through a sly but confident grin.
"Great," Andy remarked, yawning "I'm going for a nap."
The young mortal exited his quarters, but the God did not notice. He had no time to waste. Gazing at the two blazing red flags that had so beautifully marred the scroll's map, Hades was more than satisfied. Placing the scroll back on its sacred mantle, he made his way to see the Oracle.
If he worked fast, it wouldn't take long… After all, destiny had decreed, destruction was imminent...
Confuzzled? Let us know! Love to hear your thoughts on it all. Who knoooooows what is in store for our heroes...XOXO, Philia-Calliope