Maxie munched on the reddish purple bulbs as an after-meal snack. Figs. That's what they were.
Cathy restrained from staring at him too much. A subtle glance here or there kept her biting curiosity in check. It was hard to look away from the focus of the entire room. The man was larger than life in every metaphorical sense of the phrase, everything he did must—had to be—a spectacle of luxury and dominance. It was a strange sensation to watch a person one had only seen in photos now moving so freely. Cathy was almost reluctantly starstruck in a sense, but she reminded herself that infamy was not the same as fame.
The cold and drafty alleyway behind the Monarch Theater was a foreboding valley of grime and stone. However, it was thankfully empty at the moment. Safe. For the time being.
"Hey man, how you holding up?" asked Neil, patting Mike's shoulder encouragingly with his free hand.
Mike hissed through gritted teeth as he took another step. "Hurts like a bitch," he grunted.
"Listen, I owe you one," replied Neil quickly, apologetic in tone.
"Neil. For the last time, shut your face. You think I would have left you to get your skull beaten in? Don't worr - agh - don't worry about it."
With Phil and Neil supporting him on either side, Mike struggled to hobble on one leg, his arms draped around the only other two people he managed to escape with.
"Bet it feels worse than it looks. You're a real trooper," commended Phil in an attempt to keep hopes high.
"Your shiner's not so bad either, bud." Mike indicated with a flick of his head to the enormous black eye. "Where'd you learn to swing like that, anyway?"
"Amateur baseball league with the boys at work. Sometimes we visit the diamond for an afternoon, go out for a pint afterwards."
Mike scoffed, lolling his head back. "And you said you were a plumber? Shoulda went pro, man. Especially after what you did back there."
"Nah. Couldn't even make try-outs in my younger days."
Neil sighed dreamily amidst an evident struggle to keep Mike propped up. "I could sure go for a pint right about now."
"Too right," agreed Mike. He suddenly grit his teeth and hissed after once again putting too much weight on his bad leg.
Trying to keep the mood optimistic through the pain wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. As upbeat as their banter was, the underlying knowledge that nothing was going right was apparent in their pained smiles and tense shoulders. Mike couldn't ignore it. They had an injured person on their team, and he was disappointed to say that it was him.
The right leg of his pants were slashed from knee to ankle, stopping at the hem just before complete split. A bloody, jagged gash peeked out from the billowing fabric, following the same pattern as the tear. His shin was a sticky, red mess. There was no telling how deep the hunting knife went.
By all looks the injury seemed like a nasty but surmountable flesh wound. However, it was a pain that seared right down to the bone that told him that it might be more serious than that. During the brawl, shock kept Mike on his feet, ready to throw punches until dawn if he had to. When the political prisoners scattered into groups once it was clear the camp was a lost cause, Mike knew his wound was more than met the eye, especially when his companions needed to help him through the protective wall.
Marcia and the majority of the political prisoners escaped the camp before they did. A third group managed to break away, too, but there was no telling if there were any casualties without an official headcount.
Phil glanced at his wrist out of habit. His scuffed watch had ground to a halt long ago. "Damn". He flicked his arm as if the movement would somehow shake it back to life, and placed it back near his ear to listen, but there was no telltale ticking. "How long you think we've been out here?" He scanned the sky to get his bearings. The snow storm was settling down. Only a sprinkle of flakes fell.
"Since the ambush? Gotta be a couple hours by now." Mike then looked bothered by something. "Poor kid. Sure hope Cath made it out okay."
"Yeah," replied Phil quietly. He boosted Mike for a better, sturdier grip and stoically continued forward. "That's why I was askin'. I made a promise."
"Well then what are we waiting for?" said Mike. "Let's go."
"You're not going anywhere. Not in your condition," Phil warned. "First we find you some help. I'm going at it alone. You two promised nothing."
"Hell no," retorted Mike. "That Cathy girl's one of us now. She don't deserve to be here. Either we all leave together or none at all. Come on. I'm feeling better already."
He hopped straighter as proof he could soldier on. Admirable as his determination was, it was clear he still needed his new friends as crutches.
Phil looked at Neil pleadingly to talk some sense. Neil only shrugged dumbfoundedly. Phil sighed in resignation. "Your big-headedness is going to get you killed one of these days, Mike." But a small smile played on his lips and he stayed quiet.
"I signed up for the GCPD for a reason, amigos."
Maxie eyed each of them with zeal. "How promising this is. Little by little we become closer to being one, being whole again. Mount Olympus shall reign in the supremacy it deserves once more. There are still those who foolishly believe they have declaration to impede upon our home, such as that mortal many moons ago who dared ascend the perilous Mount Olympus."
"How could we forget," agreed Dionysus, nodding.
Cathy froze.
The room rang with Maxie's mocking laughter. "The maiden claimed to be Persephone. Persephone, when she is truly down in the underworld with my brother at this very moment." He drained his goblet in one large gulp and slammed it richly back down on the table. "Imagine, a mortal having the gall to impersonate a god."
Cathy's body tingled.
"None shall dare pull the wool over old Zeus's eyes ever again. The mortals have grown soft. Disobedient. Believing themselves worthy of our realm." He stroked a thumb over a jewel fixed on his goblet. "In due time we will remind them of the respect and fear our names evoke."
Cathy tried to calm her sudden bout of anxiety. This whole dinner scene might have just been entrapment, a lure to corner her and get her to confess. To toy with her before they punished her for trespassing. She hid her restless fingers underneath the table and squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to hold herself together without giving herself away.
"The mortals lack wisdom bestowed to only those who inhabit the godly plain," said the woman in her neutral, regal way. Cathy was convinced the lady could call for the complete extermination of every living being in Arkham City and it would still sound benevolent.
"Ah, Calliope, my muse. You have always been loyal to your Zeus. T'is why I allow you to dine with the gods."
The woman bowed her head gratefully. "A gracious honour."
Cathy's Greek god codename theory was falling apart. She didn't know who Calliope was, or even if the name belonged to Greek myth.
She mentally flipped through her elementary school textbook, fighting to recall information. The easy stuff to remember—Hades ruled the underworld, Poseidon and the sea, Aphrodite the goddess of love and beauty, et cetera—that all came easily, but delving any deeper was murky. Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades were brothers, but who were the rest of the siblings? Was there five? No, six. Seven? There was also Hera, and...Demeter? Yes, Demeter was their sister as well, Cathy was sure of it.
Maxie's style of speaking was putting her more and more at unease. The Mighty Gods sounded like his criminal gang's title by the sounds of it, but his speech was so weirdly formal. Inflated ego at being their leader, perhaps, but it still seemed too specific to be random. Maybe it was that mental handicap that sent him to the asylum in first place, maybe it messed with his speech. She couldn't recall a single affliction by name with that type of symptom, but then again she never took psychology in school.
Maxie cast his blue eyes on Cathy. His annoyance of the Persephone girl faded and he smiled. "Hestia grows weary of our talk, she has spoken barely a word! Her chambers are calling her, I'm sure."
Cathy felt the sting of the spotlight as, once again, all eyes turned on her. How did one formally address a Greek god? She had hoped she could get through the meal invisible, even begged for the impossible to happen and these strange people would suddenly come down with a nasty case of amnesia. But she needed to say something in order to look like she knew what she was doing, to look familiar with them.
Talking stung her throat, she had been quiet for so long. "Um, pardon me..." she said quietly.
"Zeus, dear sister, Zeus," Maxie said, grinning like a boy on his birthday. "I will not hear a word that would make you appear any lesser than me whilst you live upon this summit. You shall call me nothing else but Zeus, your brother." He leaned to the scarred inmate in a jovial manner, making certain his voice carried over loud enough for Cathy to hear. "Poor soul, it has been so long since our last meeting, she feels modest in my presence."
Her momentum thrown off by Maxie's interruption, Cathy needed an extra second to collect herself again. "Zeus," she contented. "Yes, that would be best, thank you."
"Wonderful." He acknowledged Dionysus. "Do make sure the table is cleared for our next gathering. As well, Hephaestus, my thunderbolts are dimming. See that they receive proper care. In your capable hands, I expect the best."
The orange-clad inmate bowed his head. "At once."
It was done. Cathy now knew all of their names and was no closer to figuring out who they were than when she started. Hephaestus was like the blacksmith of the gods, that was all she knew.
Calliope stood dutifully, her pristine dress rippling at her feet. Cathy couldn't help but stare at her wavy, smooth brown hair, too beautiful to have been real in a place like Arkham City, unlike the matted straw nest Cathy could call her hair.
"If it pleases the god Zeus, I shall see to it that Hestia finds her private quarters worthy."
"Seat yourself, Calliope," reassured Zeus, holding up a hand to halt her. "I wish to personally escort Hestia myself. I am most anxious to hear what she thinks of it." Again he spoke as if Cathy weren't there.
Following Maxie out of the dining hall, she could feel Calliope's burning stare on her back every step of the way until the dining room was out of sight.
The topmost upper floors appeared to be reserved for gods and goddesses that Maxie was waiting for. He led her to a hall of doors that looked no different from the others, but clearly he knew what was beyond each. He stopped at a single one, three down on the left. This must have been the one reserved for Hestia. He unlocked it with a twist of the key waiting there, and held it wide open, beckoning Cathy inside.
"T'is the only bed chamber that bears a hearth, as per your whim. Does this room please you?"
Cathy stepped through the threshold, examining the entire room with awe. Not that she would have refused it had the sheets been the wrong color, or if the space contained ugly decor. She was overwhelmed to find a beautiful bed in the corner, neatly made, and fluffed with pillows of different sizes and a tan taffeta comforter. The walls were decorated in muted, earthy tones. Subconsciously, she thought she could smell a forest.
Just as Maxie promised, a white marble fireplace was placed against the wall to her left. Cathy nodded her assent, trying to keep her welling emotion under control. She would never take comfort for granted again. "It is perfect. Thank you. I am...most honoured to accept it."
It was for the best to reflect Maxie's formal speech back in order to play her new part properly. Just temporarily until she could find a way to escape the Olympus Club somehow. She just hoped her liking of historical books and movies would be enough to pass Maxie's test.
He flashed an elated smile at her words. "I shall see to it that Calliope arranges a bath to be brought to you after you've had sufficient time to rest. Your journey appears to have been most troublesome."
Before Cathy could prepare herself, Maxie brought her in and wrapped his large, muscular arms around her. Cathy twitched from dreadful surprise. The warmth of his skin spread like a soothing blanket onto her chilled, goose-pimply arms.
"Know that the bliss I feel in my heart is a joyous, most welcoming feeling." When Maxie pulled away, Cathy saw the glint of a happy tear welling in his eyes. The weak light of dawn pooling through the window made them shine and glimmer, and he blinked several times to stay them. "It is good to have our Hestia home."
Cathy gathered her courage in one breath. Looking him straight in the eye, she replied, "It is good to be home, brother."
A/N: Your reviews have been wonderful and encouraging, I get so excited whenever I see a new one! Some may not think their comments mean anything, but let me tell you with full honesty, I do get super thrilled when you all tell me what you honestly think, good or bad. Please let me know if my story is too wordy. I've always been a big believer in less is more, I wouldn't want to overdescribe something and ruin the flow. I have a tendency to overwrite, a habit which I'm trying to curb.
If anyone needs help with pronounciation, her name sounds like kuh-LYE-oh-pee. Remember to also ask questions if you notice something that's just not right, I could have totally missed something along the way.
So, question for the day, how'd you find my story? Recommendation? My story happened to be on the front page when I updated? Found it on another author's favorites list? Just thought it'd be cool to know everyone's experience.
LurkingLady - I recommend watching the Batman The Animated Series episode "Fire From Olympus" for what I'm partly basing this Maxie Zeus on, in the same way that Arkham Asylum/City/Origins sometimes borrows or is inspired by the series. I am using some pieces of the "Fire From Olympus" episode as a prequel, the rest is my own creative license, inspiration through the game, and my take on how Maxie Zeus - usually thought of as a conceptually weak villain - could become threatening in the Arkham game world (in the same way that Calendar Man has always been a joke to Batman fans. Until recently. Who's laughing now?) Whether or not I succeed remains to be seen and will be totally up to the reader.
Thank you so much for saying that about Cathy, I am just blown away by how many people have told me that they like how she seems to be a relatable, everyday person who got thrown into a bad situation, which was exactly my intention. Because really, who could have seen Arkham City coming? Maybe I'll strap her to the nines with machine guns, a cigar in mouth, and a bitingly dry one-liner from now on...
It makes me very happy to know what you thought of the way Calendar Man and Zsasz were written here.
Congratulations to ThePenWieldingRose for guessing correctly at Hephaestus. I knew Calliope would be a tough one, so I honestly didn't expect anybody to guess her.