If Hera was expecting everyone to simply fall in line, she was sorely mistaken.
She was dealing with the Avengers- "simple" just wasn't in their jurisdiction.
The first issue, and the one that was actually the simplest to solve, was the fact that the majority of the people that she was dead-set on training all had pesky things called jobs. Hera, of course, was of the opinion that "jobs" were a distraction, and that training should take up at least twelve hours in a given day.
Tony was of the opinion that he had a multi-billion dollar global security taskforce to run, and that he absolutely couldn't sacrifice four department heads- even for something admittedly as important as training.
Rose thinks they probably could have argued for hours on the subject (though Hera never truly looked angry- more like a mother arguing with a particularly stubborn toddler), had Athena not interjected herself into the situation and helped them to reach a consensus; they would train together four hours a day, focusing on teamwork and abilities that were apparently inherent for all Olympians. Only one day of the week would have a private, twelve hour session- an approach that Athena insisted would allow for more focused, personalized attention to improve on individual strengths and weaknesses. Neither party was particularly happy with the arrangement, but neither could really argue with the logic (as much as both desperately wanted to).
Steve privately worried about integration, but decided to shelve the issue for another time. The women (and Damien) were far too untrained to even begin considering putting them in the field (a thought that, by itself, made panic claw its way up his throat if he dwelled on it too long. He didn't want to put her in danger but the world wasn't giving him a fucking choice-).
The much messier issue, and the one that took up a majority of the evening, was the matter of Athena's apparent "betrayal".
Emotions were mixed…and the majority were definitely in the negative.
They had just barely settled the matter of the schedule, when Tony and Steve quietly took Athena aside. Rose isn't quite sure what the two men said to her, but she doubts that it was at all pleasant. Tony comes out looking particularly tired, fury and something almost like grief tightening his shoulders and drawing out the lines on his face. Steve looks equally as grim, though not quite as pained as the physically older man.
Athena just looked…sad.
It wasn't obvious- not like it was with the two men. The dreadlocked woman wasn't prone to overt displays of emotion. Rose was pretty sure she could count the number of times she'd seen the other woman smile on a singular hand. Nonetheless, there had been something undeniably morose about her- like someone had come up to her and deflated her like a balloon.
Rose is….conflicted.
One part of her finds her sadness satisfying. Rose had, up until very recently (very recently- like an hour ago), thought that Hera was trying to kill her. Worse, she'd thought that Hera had almost killed Steve. Seeing the woman in what was essentially her living room? Rose wasn't sure that there was an adequate word in the English language to describe it. It was apparently not the case- but Rose got the feeling that Athena hadn't been completely sure on the matter. If it had just been Rose's life on the line? She would have gladly taken the risk (a fact, she knew, that would likely have given her boyfriends matching ulcers). However, it wasn't just her life. Just about everyone she loved had been present in that room.
Steve and Bucky had been in that room.
She'd had a bare glimpse of the Siege of Troy- had heard the screams and felt the heat of a city burning in the back of her mind. If anything had happened to them? She would have visited a wrath upon her that made that seem like a god damn dream.
The other half of her (the part not baying for blood) is distressed at the sight. She's not really used to having friends- isn't even really quite sure that's what they are- but she knows that she just wants them to be happy. She wants to forgive her- wants to believe the best about her friend- but she isn't sure that she can.
She's not sure if Athena could somehow sense her confliction (doubtful, given her struggle with pesky things like empathy), but the dark-skinned woman zeroes in on her with an eerie degree of focus. Confused and more than a little irritated at the attention, Rose scowled at her, arms coming up to cross defensively over her chest. Blatantly ignoring her hostility, Athena waded across the Common Room, nimbly avoiding the other people attempting to catch her attention (most notably Hades, who only received a solid middle finger for his trouble.) Bucky, who had yet to leave her side for more than a second, visibly tensed with every step, mechanical hand whirring like he was barely restraining himself from lunging forward and punching the woman in the jaw.
"You don't have to talk to her, baby boll." Rose glanced at him, the scowl on her face deepening at his dark tone. "You don't owe her anything." The dark haired man adjusted his stance, blatantly stepping in front of the petite blonde woman and blocking her from Athena's gaze. Said woman barely paused for a second, only stopping to glance in between the two before visibly hyping herself up, shoulders tight and determined. Touched by his protectiveness, Rose unwillingly felt some of her irritation fade, the scowl on her face loosening enough for her to shoot a small smile at the expanse of his back.
"I know." Unable to help herself, she reached forward and placed a gentle hand on his lower back, the grin on her face widening minutely when he subtly leaned back into it. Girding herself for confrontation, she squared her shoulders with determination before pointedly stepping out from behind him, the hand resting on his back sliding around to grip his metal one as she stood at his side. Bucky shot her a small glance, some of the tightness in his shoulders disappearing at the stubborn tilt of her chin.
He knew she was trying to look serious- but it was just so fucking cute.
"I don't owe her anything." She trailed off, the rage she'd been pushing down lighting up her eyes as the Goddess of Warfare came to a stop in front of them. Visibly uncomfortable but similarly determined as Rose was, Athena hesitated, hands wringing anxiously at her sides.
"Rosie-" The nickname had barely passed her lips before Rose realized that she did, in fact, owe her something.
So she punched her in the crotch.
Probably would have been more effective if she had a penis.
Doesn't matter- that shit hurts.
Rose imagined that Athena probably agreed with her assessment, given her curled position over the aforementioned lady-parts. Next to her, Bucky lets out a startled laughed, silver eyes sparkling with barely contained amusement.
"The crotch, Rosie? Really?" The blonde sniffed defensively, eyes still glowing rose-gold as she glared at the slowly recovering woman.
"What? She's tall. It was quicker than punching her in the face." She shrugged, lips pursing contemplatively. "I didn't think she'd expect it, either." Athena grunted, hissing in between her teeth as she straightened up.
"An apt assessment- especially since I lack male genitalia." A frown pulling at the edge of her full lips, Athena glanced between the couple, taking in Rose's rage and Bucky's lingering protectiveness with anxious speculation. "I don't suppose we could talk?" When neither immediately answered her, the frown on her face deepened, legs subconsciously crossing to protect her already bruising lady-business. "Unless, of course, you feel like you need to hit me again. I won't say that I don't deserve it- I'd just ask that you please hit somewhere slightly higher." Fighting down the voice in her head that was screaming at her to punch her in the tit, Rose instead grit her teeth and shook her head in the negative, silently gesturing for Bucky to leave the two semi-alone to talk (since there was zero chance he'd leave them completely alone to talk- not with Hera still jabbering away at Steve, Tony, and now Thor). Once they were as alone as they could get, Athena sighed, the same deflated look appearing on her face again as she starred down at the floor.
"Look- Rosie-" Rose bristled, lips curling as she all but snarled at her.
"Don't' call me that. Only my friends call me that- and I'm not sure you are one." Athena pursed her lips, golden eyes flat and pained as she nodded her agreement.
"Very well, Rose." She sighed again, fingers clenched tightly at her side. "I just want you to know- I know you don't trust me anymore. I wouldn't blame you if you never trusted me again. But I just have to tell you- have to let you know- that I…" She trailed off, visibly frustrated as she tried to understand her own feelings and then put those feelings into words. After a tense moment she finally looked up at her, eyes suspiciously glassy. "I would never have let her in if I thought she would have hurt you- any of you." She unconsciously glanced at Sammy, the sadness on her face deepening when it became apparent that the red head was completely ignoring her existence. Swallowing drily she refocused on the petite blonde, the arms at her sides stiffening almost painfully as her uncomfortableness peaked. "You all- you're the only family I have. If I could have gone against Hades myself- If I thought we could have won alone- I would never have-" Rose cuts her off.
"Were you sure?" Athena frowns at the brusque question, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to figure out what the blonde was saying. Rose saves her the trouble of parsing it out by elaborating. "Were you 100% sure that she had nothing to do with everything? That she wouldn't hurt me? Or Steve? Or anyone? Hell, are you 100% sure now? Or did you just unilaterally decide that you know better?" Athena swallowed again, eyes shooting to the floor as she silently took in the verbal lashing.
It was eerily similar to the one Steve had given her.
Just like then, she found that she had nothing she could say in response.
She wasn't sure- not about any of it. But she had done the math, and looked at all of the options she did have, and she hadn't been able to think of anything better. Hera, even if she wasn't the villain, was volatile and extremely dangerous. However, she was also a gifted teacher, healer, and leader- all things that the Pantheon were desperately in need of. Even now, when everyone was angry and betrayed, when Rose was so clearly hurt by her deception, she found that that was her only regret.
She wasn't sorry about letting Hera in- she was only sorry that it had cost her so much.
Apparently sensing her non-apology, Rose scoffed, arms crossing as she turned her back on her.
"I haven't had friends for very long, Athena, but I do know this. Friends don't lie. And they apologize when they hurt people- something you haven't even bothered to do. Talk to me again when you figure out how to do that."
Athena could only stare mutely at her back as she walked away.
-_-_-_-Page-Break-_-_-_-
Rose is pretty sure that 4 a.m. was the time that God abandoned.
At least, that was what it felt like.
Bucky felt similarly to her.
When there wasn't an actual mission going on, the dark haired man liked to sleep (preferably in between two gorgeous blondes, but he'd settle for a decent mattress). However, Rose had training, which meant that Bucky and Steve had training. This also meant that Bucky and Rose had to deal with the disconcerting feeling of being awake before their bodies deemed it wise. To Rose, it felt kind of like her brain was functioning, but all of her organs were still trying to sleep and thus revolting against her.
Bucky just wished coffee actually worked on him.
Steve, who was usually up at 4 a.m. anyways (like some kind of monster), just laughed at their bedraggled faces.
If Rose wasn't so anxious about training, she probably would have punched the little shit.
Despite the fact that none of the Avengers had been actually invited to Hera's "training", it had become a sort of unspoken agreement that all of them were coming. No one trusted the Queen's intentions or her temper. Letting her carouse unattended with a group of Enhanced people only just barely comfortable with their powers was a definite "no-go". So on top of dealing with Hera's insanity, Rose had to deal with literal superheroes watching her make a complete ass of herself.
It was kind of like being in High School again.
Even the outfit is kind of similar.
Yeah- "wear something you don't mind getting destroyed" is both vague and supremely threatening.
At least sweatpants are comfortable?
Here's hoping that we don't somehow end up naked in front of everyone- again.
Rose peeked down at her clothes anxiously before glancing down the line of Greek Gods standing in the middle of the gym. Everyone appeared to be dressed similarly to her, apparently taking what Athena had "instructed" (read: warned) them about the day prior. The only exceptions she could make out were the fully decked out Avengers lingering around the edges of the room, and Hera. Scanning the sharply appointed green pantsuit, Rose kind of got the impression that the Queen owned exactly zero pairs of "comfortable" clothes. She wouldn't have been surprised if the woman slept in a chiffon ball gown.
As if sensing Rose's thoughts, Hera shot Rose an amused glance, one sharp brow raising as she crossed her arms over her chest. Startled at the sudden attention, Rose let out an embarrassingly loud squeak, face flushing brilliantly as she jerkily yanked her head down to stare at the floor.
Shit! How does she do that?!
It's like she can just tell that I'm thinking about her!
….Can Hera read minds?
…Let's hope not, you closeted bisexual fruitcake.
She must have made some sort of noise because Darcy, who'd been watching her tiny panic attack, suddenly snorted, jostling her congenially with her elbow.
"You good, Rosie-Posy?" When Rose just blinked at her, the brunette rolled her eyes, the charming gap in her teeth appearing as she waggled her brows down at her. "Having another crisis about your non-existent heterosexuality?" The blonde flushed even more brilliantly, a garbled noise escaping her as she slapped her hands over her burning cheeks.
"Darcy, no!" She just cackled at the half-shouted protest, nudging Rose again before gesturing at the pastel haired woman slowly meandering over to a now bored-looking Hera.
"Better get your head in the game, kiddo- looks like Judas finally arrived." Athena, looking almost forcefully apathetic, came to a stop next to the Olympian Queen, hands thrust lackadaisically in her pockets. Hera raised a brow at her unruly appearance, scanning her almost pallid looking face with dry amusement.
"Have a late night, oh fearless warrior? Playing one of those ridiculous strategy games you're so fond of?" She grinned sharply, the expression more at home on a shark than on her narrow face. "Or, perhaps, you were playing with your 'A.I.'" Athena stiffened subtly, golden eyes narrowing at the Queen as she shifted uneasily on her feet. "Truly fascinating stuff- it's so interesting how everyone's abilities have adapted to 'modern' times. For instance, I don't recall the original Athena being able to create life-" The darker woman cut her off with a derisive snort, full lips pursing in irritation.
"And I don't recall you talking quite so much- but I suppose we all develop new habits in our old age." Hera let out a delighted cackle at the dry delivery, her own irritation lurking faintly in the corner of her eyes.
"Very well then. I suppose we should be getting started then?" Athena pursed her lips, shrugging lightly.
"I'm only surprised that you decided to wait for me. You've never been particularly patient." Hera grinned ferally, adjusting her stance to rest her hands imperiously on her hips.
"Oh, on the contrary- I can be plenty patient. It just depends on the why." She ran her tongue over her teeth, eyes glinting manically as she addressed the gathered crowd. "And the why, owlet, is for revenge."
Revenge for the life she'd lost.
Revenge for the family that had been destroyed.
Revenge for her children.
"Good morning, little gods and goddesses. I'd ask if you slept well but I don't particularly care." She rolled her shoulders and neck, arching a brow at the bedraggled line of people in front of her. "Now, before we begin your actual training, I noticed that not a single one of you is adequately attired. I'm going to assume that is largely due to Hades incompetence and not your own, but I have been disappointed before." Damien, who looked more asleep than awake (and also righteously hungover), scoffed loudly at the dryly mocking statement.
"Listen lady, not all of us have a team of psychotic twin seamstresses toiling away to make us bullet proof leotards. Sweatpants is the best you're getting." Hera rolled her eyes.
"Please- don't speak to me of that primitive garb." Tony, fully decked out in his armor and looking more irritable than Rose could ever recall seeing him, let out an indignant "Hey!"
He was summarily ignored.
"Tell me, has anyone of you seen the Asgardian get dressed for battle? Spend precious minutes latching on buckles and playing with snaps?" She scoffed at her own rhetorical question. "Of course not. Don't be so plebeian." She gestured to an apathetic looking Athena, one eyebrow raised challengingly. "A demonstration, if you please." The pastel haired woman rolled her shoulders, stepping pointedly away from the Queen and assuming what Rose guess was a sort of battle stance.
Then, with zero fanfare, the air around her shifts.
It starts like a mirage around the top of her head, the air warping almost like heat was distorting the air, and then the shift happens almost all at once. The messy pile of pastel dreads pulls back into a braided Mohawk, an odd, silver colored tiara/helmet bordering the piled hair and then coming down to frame her sharp cheekbones. There's a subtle tearing noise and then her clothes are falling in taters around her feet, shining, opalescent plate mail taking its place. Rose can just faintly make out what looks like a giant owl in mid-flight spread across the breastplate. She's unable to make anything else out as a massive shield appears on her left arm, blocking out the entirety of her torso- all except for a small part revealed by a crescent cut out on the edge of it. Rose only has a second to puzzle at the odd cut out before a shining silver colored spear materializes in her opposite hand. Now fully garbed, her lips pull back into shark-like smile, golden eyes glinting with glee as she slides back into a crouch, the spear at her side twirling elegantly before coming up to rest in the nook of the shield.
That….was the coolest fucking thing I've ever seen.
Wait- does that mean we have armor!?
Rose does her best to sit still- she really does- but the excitement is just too much. A sort of impatient tapping starts up in her feet, shoulders shimmying as she starts to hop in place. She knows that the grin spreading across her face probably makes her look bat-shit crazy, but holy shit she has armor.
Hera takes in her, and an equally excited Darcy',s wiggling with a benign twerk of her lips, teal eyes gently amused as she scans the line of newly motivated Olympians.
"You are all gods- and you were outfitted by the greatest smith of any of the godly houses." Something sad twists the edge of smile, bitter regret darkening her expression. "Hephaestus- my son- was a master craftsman. Every piece was designed specifically for you and your unique gifts. You will not find armor made of more durable materials or more finely crafted than the ones divinely gifted to you." Her eyes drifted across the line before resting on a wide-eyed Jane. Instantly, the sadness shifts to something almost salacious, face glowing with a nearly feline satisfaction as she prowls towards steadily more anxious blonde. She comes to a stop with a sinful smile on her face, elegant hands crawling up the other woman's front until they rested "innocently" on her collarbones.
Rose could see Jane's throat bob from the other side of the line.
Hera eyes the redness spreading up Jane's face with dark pleasure, tongue running teasingly across her lips as she purred up at the much taller woman.
"And, as it should always be, my King comes first." Jane sputtered at the teasing purr, looking simultaneously like she wanted to lean into the touch and like she had come up with at least 12 ways to evacuate the area at warp speed. Satisfied with the brilliant shade of red that Jane had turned, Hera smoothly stepped away from her, crossing her arms imperiously as she gave her a quick once over.
"Now- I want you to focus. Look inside of yourself. Find the very core of your power." Still red, but now determined, Jane gave her a brisk nod in acknowledgement. Jaw clenched with concentration, Jane closed her eyes and tilted her head, almost like she was trying to listen to music no one else could hear. There's a pause as everyone seemingly holds their breath as one, watching as the "King" searches for the esoteric "core" of her power.
The hair on Rose's arms stand on end.
Jane opens her eyes, and it's like her irises have been replaced with pure lightning.
There's a tiny, strangled noise from the corner of the room, which everyone pointedly ignores, too enthralled by the unwitting show the scientist is putting on. The grin on Hera's face widens as she takes a couple of pointed steps back, the sharp angles of her face glowing eerily as sparks arc out of Jane's skin.
"Now pull."
Thunder cracks and Jane's form disappears in a blinding flash of light.
When Rose can finally clear the spots from her eyes, her mouth unwillingly drops.
That's so badass .
Jane, already imposing in ratty sweats, is transformed.
Lightning crackles across her skin, arching out between shining, platinum colored armor in a nearly breathtaking display of pure power. Light reflects off of the heavy plate like sunlight reflecting off of clouds, refracting iridescently. The smell of ozone and heavy rain fills the gymnasium as Jane shifts slightly, a massive glaive resting sedately in her right hand. Looking somewhat shell-shocked by the sudden change, Jane absently clenches her hand around the newly appeared weapon, jumping slightly when electricity crackles along the handle.
An excited, nearly girlish squeal echoes across the gym.
Rose is only shocked that the sound didn't come from her.
Every eye in the building turns to a giddily bouncing Thor, eyebrows raising incredulously at the large man's beaming grin. The Asgardian God of Thunder looks about ready to swoon, face flushing brilliantly as he claps like a varsity cheerleader. The shell-shocked look on Jane's face disappears slowly with every exuberant whoop, pleasure lighting up her face as she beams in the clapping god's direction.
"Yes! Yes!" Thor pointed excitedly in Jane's direction, glancing around as if to say "do you see that?". "That is a God of Thunder!" He paused for a second, facing screwing up oddly as he thought aloud. "Goddess of Thunder? Thunder deity?" Damien piped up, eyes glimmering with interest despite his attempts at appearing apathetic.
"Goddess of Thunder, King of Olympus- goddess is gender specific but King can just mean 'a paramount chief' which makes sense given the context." There was a heavy silence as everyone processed the statement, shooting the now irritated man incredulous looks. "What? I'm a god damn doctor- why are you all looking at me like I'm stupid?" Darcy rolled her eyes.
"Because we were pretty sure that you'd actually pickled your brain with all the booze." The Sun God squinted, pursing his lips as he muddled over the dry response. After a second he shrugged, conceding the point.
"Fair enough." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them eagerly as he faced a benignly amused Hera. "Right- as the most attractive one here-" He flapped a hand in Rose's direction, apparently waving off nonexistent offense. "-I should probably go next."
That makes zero fucking sense.
I get the feeling he just wants to get it over with so he can sleep off his hangover.
Also- doesn't he catch on fucking fire? Does he actually need armor?
Aesthetic.
….Right. I forgot that the Greeks were dramatic bitches.
We'redramatic bitches.
Unable to argue the point, Rose settled back slightly, watching as Hera focused on the younger of the Lewis twins with a put-upon sigh.
"Very well, then. The instructions are essentially the same- though I would advise that you grasp your power more gently than our King did. As impressive of a display that it was, we're all very lucky that the lightning didn't strike someone unworthy." Tony, who'd apparently relaxed enough to start sciencing the shit out of the "transformations" (because how did that work? Where did the mass come from? How did they convert matter? How-), replied absently.
"There's nothing lucky about it- there's a multi-million dollar, industrial grade lightning arrestor grounded in the floor of the gymnasium. Can't have our original Thunder Buddy frying my equipment every time he decides to play 'Pin the Cap to the Floor' and other fun, M-Rated games." The Queen rolled her eyes, unimpressed with the interruption.
"Yes, well, as impressive as that sounds- I doubt you have anything capable of absorbing an explosion approximately 27 million degrees Fahrenheit." She hummed, see-sawing her hand as if weighing her words. "15 million degrees Celsius if we're following the metric system." Tony paused his absent calculations, leveling a raised brow at the dark haired goddess.
"Or approximately 5,778 degrees Kelvin- also known as the temperature of the sun." He wrinkled his nose before shrugging. "It's also a physical impossibility since it would light our atmosphere on fire, but I guess it makes as much sense as any of this does." Damien glanced between the two, eyebrow raised in irritation.
"If you're both done- trust me." He clenched his jaw, his ever present grief flashing briefly behind his dark eyes. "I'm more than aware of what I'm capable of." Damien swallowed dryly, shaking his head as if to ward off the unpleasant thoughts before deflecting, arms swinging exuberantly at his sides. "I swear on my honor as a Boy Scout that I won't barbecue everyone here." He paused in his swinging long enough to shoot Darcy a smarmy wink. "At least not without seasoning you first." Darcy scowled at him.
"You weren't even a Boy Scout you dick-" Her irritated response is cut-off by Damien who, by virtue of his distance from Hades had had ample opportunity to practice with his "gifts", lightly tugging on the "core" of his power.
Rose could vividly recall the first time she'd had to cook with a gas stove. She hadn't been quite sure how to light the damned thing, so she'd just kind of left the gas open while she figured it out. About five minutes later she'd lit a match. All she can really remember after that was a spark and then a blinding flash of light.
It had taken her two months to grow her eyebrows back.
Standing next to Damien vividly reminds her of that same sensation.
The heat is intense.
When the roaring fire fades, Damien is left standing in a circle of scorched and flaming plastic, looking as shocked as Rose had ever seen him. Fire dances up the golden greaves covering his shins, just kissing the gladiatorial skirt hanging just below his knees- a detail that, no doubt, offended the former physician, if the scowl he shot his bare thighs was anything to go by. The scowl melted off of his face when he took in the gold chest-piece, navy colored eyes glinting with pleasure as he "swished" back and forth, absently clenching the flaming, golden bow in his hand. Damien let out a low whistle, striking a pose before waggling his eyebrows at a bemused Darcy.
"I don't know about you- but I make this look good." Darcy scoffed.
"You look like Julius Cesar and Robin Hood's gay love child." Damien batted his eyelashes at her.
"Yaaaas Queen." Darcy, despite her attempts to be unamused by her brother, let's out an involuntary laugh. Rose is similarly amused, but finds her own laughter stuck in her chest.
This is the first time she's seen the twins properly interact.
She knows that, at one point, Damien and Darcy had been nearly inseparable. They were two sides of the same coin, creatures with different interests but matching souls. She also knows that both of them had loved Sarah- maybe not in the same way, but with similar intensities.
Her death had destroyed them both.
Watching them interact now? It felt almost bittersweet to the blonde. She didn't think that they would ever get back to the way they had been before magic had made an indelible mark in their lives, but this? This felt like a beginning.
Hera is less touched.
"If you're quite done- we do have a schedule to maintain." She clapped her hands together, teal eyes dark and intense as the zeroed in on the older twin. "Now, little hunter, your directions are going to be much different than the ones I gave the others. I'd ask that you not touch the core of your power- at least not in the presence of anything you don't mind eviscerating." Darcy paled at the warning, woodenly nodding her agreement. Hera gave her a shark-like grin in response. "Excellent. Now- close your eyes." Darcy did as instructed, face screwing up slightly in concentration.
"Imagine your bow in your hand, the way the light feels, how you muscles move as you draw back on it. Can you feel it in your hand?" She nodded. "Good- now, κυνήγι." Darcy jumps at the sharp command, brow twisting slightly at the foreign word before she suddenly disappears in a swirl of ink-like smoke.
When the smoke clears, Rose has to fight back a whimper.
Why are all of these women so fucking hot?
I feel like we're getting more and more gay as time goes by.
I don't even care.
The brunette was clothed head to toe in some sort of black scales, slick and shining like the kind you would find on a snake. The scales were broken up by spots of midnight blue plate mail, strategically placed on her chest, shins, and forearms, extending down into claw-like plating along her fingers. The lower half of her face was obscured by a black cowl, what appeared to be a hood hanging loosely around her shoulders, her long dark hair hanging in a thick, elaborate braid on top of it. The only spot of color that Rose could see was the moonlight bow clasped loosely in her hand, the pale light coming from it making the feral film on her eyes glow eerily.
Clint, who's been an atheist for basically the entirety of his life, decides that he's finally found a religion he can get behind.
And on top of.
And below.
He's not picky.
He also silently reminds himself to throw out his Christmas list- asking Santa for anything else just seems greedy.
Darcy glances down at her armor and then, seemingly reading her boyfriend's mind, send the archer a coquettish wink, the hand not holding her bow resting primly on her hip.
"Look babe- I'm a Nightingale. All hail the Lady Nocturnal." The grin on Clint's face is nearly blinding.
"Darce- sweetheart- I fucking love you." The smile on his face softens, taking on a sappy edge. "You fuckin' nerd." Darcy snickers at him, smile teasing but eyes just as tender as his.
"You're just mad that I'm a higher level than you are." The archer scowled at her.
"Yeah- but that's only because you cheat-" Hera cuts off the long-standing argument before it can truly begin, tone as dry as the Sahara.
"As fascinating as this all is- we have one more before we can actually begin." Rose flushed at the sudden rush of attention, unconsciously bouncing in place as anticipation built in her system. "It's your turn, little swan. I trust you're intelligent enough that you have some idea of what you need to do?" The blonde swallows nervously, shaking her head in the affirmative. "Excellent. Go." A distressing mixture of anxious and excited, Rose does as she is asked, and looks inside of herself.
It is…more difficult than she expected it to be.
There's so much noise. It's like there's an entire choir buzzing around in her skull- a distressing cacophony of voices she wasn't even aware existed until she'd taken the time to listen. An aurora of color blossoms behind her eyes, gold and silver, red and black- each snared and tangled like a spider web. She brushes past them, the faint echo of a prayer buzzing behind her eyes as she searches for what Hera had dubbed her "core".
She can tell she's finally reached it when rose-gold light flashes beneath her closed eyes.
The transition is….disconcerting.
It feels almost like thousands of feathers sliding against her skin- a sensation made even more uncomfortable when one took into account that it was feathers sliding everywhere.
When the light finally recedes, Rose can make out a faint "damn" from her right. Excited over the prospect of having fucking armor she finally opens her eyes.
Rage doesn't even begin to cover it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" The blonde let out an irate shriek, flailing helplessly at the skin-tight suit that had appeared on her body. It was a sort of luminescent white color, edged in a rose colored pink that Rose, objectively speaking, usually would have found kind of cute. The fabric was almost silky against her skin, but had a pattern that Rose thought looked kind of like fish scales.
The tightness, by itself, wasn't the issue.
The issue, were the damned cut outs.
A "heart" cut out over her breasts.
Feathers on the outside of her thighs and calves.
The damned gaping window over her abdomen and back.
They looked like they were made of the same fabric (hide?) that the rest of the "armor" was, only perhaps cut from a different part of the creature. Nearly clear, Rose was only able to tell that the fabric was even there when the light reflected off of it oddly.
Her "armor" revealed more than it covered.
"Seriously?! Jane looks like some sort of electric Lady Knight! Darcy gets armor that makes her look like she consumes the fucking souls of her enemies! And me?" She gestured down again, as if she needed to further emphasize her point. "I look like the fucking female lead in an RPG with an all-male design team!" Rose paused, squinting at something shimmering on the floor. "Is that…is that glitter?" Next to her, Darcy let out a loud snort, biting at her bottom lip as she tried to hold back laughter.
"Yup. You kind of had like a swirly, glittery mist come up and dissolve all your clothes." Rose squeaked in repressed rage, reaching up to run a hand through her hair, but stopped when she realized it was in some sort of elaborate curled/braided up-do.
That realization only further cemented her dawning horror.
"Sweet baby Jesus- I'm a fucking magical girl." Athena, who'd been doing her best to stoically watch the blonde's tantrum, unexpectedly burst into loud laughter- a fact that further ruined Rose's already terrible mood. "It's not funny- I'm a billboard of giant spots saying 'stab here I'm fucking squishy'!-" Any of Rose's further protestations are cut off when a dagger comes flying through the air and promptly slams into her chest, right on the heart cut out over her breasts.
It clatters harmlessly on the ground, the sharpened tip bent at a near 90 degree angle.
Did…did Hera throw a god damn knife at me?
Yup. Right at our heart.
…And I'm not dead?
Only on the inside.
"If you're quite done with your hysterics?" The Goddess ignored the angry protestations from around the room, crossing her arms imperiously over her chest. "I told you that your armor was made with the finest, most durable materials, did I not? That suit, whorish as it may be-" Rose let out an indignant "hey!" crossing her arms subconsciously over her exposed chest. "-is made from the scales of a Kraken. You would be hard pressed to find a more impenetrable material. It is nearly impossible to work with and even more impossible to acquire. Hephaestus, flawed as he was, loved you." Hera paused her chastisement, the sadness that Rose had come to associate with the grieving mother flitting across her face, her mouth twisting with bitter regret. "Certainly not in the way you both deserved- nor in the way you both required…But he did love you."
Rose could only blink at her, the fact that she was married in a past life screeching to the forefront of her brain.
Does that….does that mean I'm married now?!
No? I mean- Aphrodite was married? And I'm not Aphrodite.
Right. "Till death do us part." And all that jazz.
Right. Arranged marriages don't count anyways. Besides that, I get the feeling that Aphrodite wasn't too fond of her hubby.
Wretched, pathetic little man.
…Case and point.
Hera humming pulled her out of her daze, drawing her attention back to the woman now circling her.
"Tis' a beautiful piece- though I never did understand Aphrodite's taste." She shot a fuming Steve and Bucky a deliberately teasing wink. "You have much better taste, Rosie." The goddess sat back on her feet, a feral grin lighting up her features as two massive knives appeared in her relaxed palms. "I suggest you draw your weapons, little swan." Rose glanced down at her bare hands and visibly blanched, wondering where the fuck her weapons were-
The thought had barely processed when two odd, bladed batons materialized in her hands.
…That's interesting.
Hera hummed again, absently twirling the dagger in her hand.
"The bladed tonfa? An interesting first choice- more defensive than Aphrodite usually went with first." Rose squinted in confusion.
"First? What do you mean first?" The Queen of Olympus rolled her eyes.
"I suggest you check your pockets, little swan." Now even more confused, Rose shifted the tonfa to one hand and then reached into her non-existent pockets.
A small, wing shaped dagger appeared in her hand.
"There's more." Befuddlement growing, she reached down again.
A bladed fan appeared.
Then a string of wire.
Bladed knuckles.
Thin, needle-like blades with pearls in the handles.
A switchblade shaped like a dolphin.
The list grew and grew until Rose found herself with a small pile of weapons perched at her feet, an elegant pair of twin swords balancing precariously at the top. Next to her, Darcy let out a low whistle.
"Where are they all coming from?" Rose made a distressed noise, pulling out yet another pair of beautifully crafted daggers.
"I don't even fucking know! This outfit is skin fucking tight- they just-" She pulled a small throwing axe from thin air. "They're just fucking everywhere!?" Hera hummed, nudging the ever growing pile with her foot.
"Hephaestus was a wonderful smith…just very bad at feelings." After eyeing the pile fondly, Hera waved a lazy hand, seemingly dissolving the magical pile of weapons back into whatever dimension they'd crawled out from. Satisfied that she'd educated the blonde somewhat, she sat back in an almost languid fighting stance, twirling her daggers absently around her fingers. "My king, Damien, Darcy- I'm afraid that your weapons lay somewhat outside of my purview. As such, you'll be stuck with Athena today. Do try not to be too hard on them." Whether she was referring to the three gods or Athena was unclear.
Her attention shifted to Rose, a downright feral smile stretching her face in a borderline terrifying way.
"Rose, the majority of your weapons are knives. As such, you'll be with me today." She ran her tongue over her teeth, eyes flashing a teasing teal. "Do try to keep up."
She only just barely dodged the knife that came streaming at her head.
…I'm probably going to die today, aren't I?
Second times the charm, I guess.